All You Need Is Love
by bricat
Summary: There are still four Horcruxes out there that Harry has to track down. He has no idea where they were or how he, Ron and Hermione were going to find them. Adding Ginny and the Dursleys to the mix makes for an interesting summer. Written pre-DH
1. 1 The Snake, The Sneak & The Spy

CHAPTER ONE: 

THE SNAKE, THE SNEAK AND THE SPY

"Kill me, then. Kill me like you killed him, you coward –" Harry Potter panted. He was lying on the ground, his wand several feet away, looking up at the greasy haired, sallow-skinned face of his potions master. Severus Snape had his wand pointed at Harry, with a look of pure hatred in his eyes. Harry was not scared, he was angry.

It was no secret that the enmity between Harry and Snape had been absolute since Harry had first set foot in Hogwarts nearly six years ago. Harry's dislike had turned to contempt last year when Shape had goaded Harry's godfather, Sirius, into going to the ministry of magic where he died. But tonight Snape had crossed from loathing to pure hatred. He had murdered Dumbledore. Not only would Harry never consider forgiving him, he was quite ready to kill Snape. If only he had his wand . . .

Snape's expression had changed. Suddenly his features were demented, inhuman, and he looked as if he was in pain. "DON'T CALL ME COWARD," he screamed.

Making a slashing motion with his wand, Snape's spell caused Harry, who had just started to get up, to feel something white-hot and whip-like hit him across the face and he was thrown backwards again. The fall knocked the wind out of him, he could not move. Laying on the ground once more his vision was obscured by something, and he heard a rush of wings. The hippogriff, Buckbeak, was flapping his wings and clawing at Snape.

Snape turned and ran as fast as he could for the gates to the school grounds, Buckbeak chasing after him. Once he was off the grounds he could Disapparate. _He's probably going to tell Voldemort that he succeeded in killing Dumbledore_, Harry thought furiously as he crawled around on the ground. If he could find his wand quickly enough perhaps he could catch Snape before he could Disapparate. As Harry's hands closed over his wand handle, he knew that it would be too late. The murdering git had escaped. Turning towards the entrance to the grounds Harry saw Snape grab hold of someone with blonde hair. Malfoy had waited. In the blink of an eye the pair disappeared.

The deed was done; the dark lord would want to know straight away. The gates were in sight. If he could just get there quick he would be able to Disapparate. The hippogriff was still giving chase, but it had not been able to get close enough to continue clawing him, and with only a few feet left to traverse before he could disappear, Snape was confident that he would not have to feel the beast's claws on him again. He flew past the winged boars and into the lane that lead to Hogsmeade. There, waiting for him, stood Draco Malfoy. Without a word, Snape grabbed Draco's arm, and the pair vanished with a small _pop._

Seconds later, they appeared hundreds of miles away with another _pop_. Gone were the mountains that surrounded the castle. Snape and Draco now stood at the bottom of a hill staring up at a large manor house. Many years ago, it had been a fine house, the largest for miles, with wide, sweeping grounds that were kept immaculate. The manor house had once been the pride of the small village of Little Hangleton, even if its owners were not. But now the house, having been empty for more than fifty years, had fallen into decay and disrepair. The roof was nearly bare, many of the tiles having fallen off. Much of the house was covered by overgrown ivy. The little not covered showed peeling paint, and more than a few broken windows.

"You should not have waited." Snape said angrily to Draco as they began to ascend the hill, their robes whipping in the wind. "You can Apparate, I believe. You should have left." Draco muttered that he didn't have a license. "In this situation, that is unimportant. The dark lord cares little for that sort of bureaucracy. If all goes well here and you are spared, it would be wise for you to remember that."

"Is . . . .is – I – I –it likely to go well?" Draco asked tremulously, looking at Snape. "I mean . . .. He's dead isn't he? Wasn't that the whole point of the mission?" Draco's voice and demeanor would have been unrecognizable to anyone that knew him. Gone were the drawl, the sneer and the cocky attitude. His body was shaking so much he could hardly walk, and when he spoke those few words he sounded as though he were seven instead of seventeen.

"The end result was what the dark lord desired. However, he wanted you to do it. It is impossible to say what his reaction will be," Snape replied trying to calm himself. He was still quite angry about his altercation on the Hogwarts grounds. Potter, the insolent, arrogant - how dare he call Severus Snape a coward! If only he knew . . .

Draco shook a little less at Snape's words. He was sufficiently calm to look around for the first time. When his eyes took in the appearance of the dilapidated house they were approaching, he felt disgusted.

"Why does he want to meet here of all places?" he asked a little of the familiar sneer coming back into his voice.

"That also is unimportant. It would be extremely foolish to ask such a question," Snape spat. "As a follower of the dark lord you should know not to question such matters. If he wishes us to know he will tell us. You are risking the cruciatus curse, at the very least in asking about matters that do not concern you. In fact, I would caution you to keep your mouth shut unless directly addressed. Your inability to do so is what landed you in this stupid situation in the first place." The look that Snape shot Draco was venomous. "I thought that you had more sense," Snape sneered, and then added, "You are becoming more like Potter every day."

Draco did not comment on this, but he fixed Snape with a contemptuous look. Quite apart from his own dislike of being compared to the boy who lived (he inwardly scoffed at the name) it was common knowledge that comparing someone to Harry Potter was the worst insult Snape could think of.

Their approach was being watched. From a window on the second floor another robed figure looked down upon them. The figure's hood was up, but the white, flat snake-like nose, and gleaming red eyes were clearly visible. At the moment his eyes were flashing angrily. Lord Voldemort had been expecting their arrival for some time now. This tardiness was most displeasing. For their sake, they better have good news.

As Snape and Draco approached the house the front door opened. No one stood on the other side. They walked in and it closed behind them. The stairs stood before the duo. They began to ascend. The dust here was thicker than it had been three years previous when the old Muggle caretaker, Frank Bryce, had climbed to his death. Light from a fire was flickering in the room at the end of the hall. Draco followed Snape towards that light. As it got bigger, his sense of foreboding increased.

Crossing the threshold of the room Snape and Draco laid eyes on their master for the first time. His eyes were gleaming scarlet, showing fury. The slit-like nostrils of his flat nose were wider than usual. They fell to their knees automatically and made to crawl forward to kiss his robes, as was required of every Death Eater upon meeting with their master. This evening, however, Lord Voldemort did not have the patience for this custom.

"Get up!" They immediately rose, but remained silent, waiting to be addressed. "Well?" He asked impatiently when neither was forthcoming. "What news have you of that Muggle-loving old fool?"

"He is dead, master," Snape said, keeping his head bowed, not meeting those scarlet eyes. He still had not sufficiently calmed down from his altercation with Potter to chance it.

"Is he?" Voldemort asked quietly. His scarlet eyes flashed again. This time, however, he seemed pleased.

He had indeed been hoping that this plan would succeed and the old fool would at last be killed. The young Malfoy had seemed eager to join the dark lord's ranks. This was, as the Muggles say, a way to kill two birds with one stone. The first was to grow his army, and perhaps get rid of the thorn in his side that was Dumbledore. The second was retaliatory.

Lucius had not only failed in his mission to gain the prophecy, when faced with six teenagers, but because of his blunder the idiots at the ministry had learned that he, Lord Voldemort, had returned. Lucius needed to be shown what a failure of that magnitude cost. Thus the dark lord had given the task of disposing of Dumbledore to Draco, expecting that the boy would have no chance, and would be killed in the process. No great loss by all accounts. If, however by some stroke of luck the mission succeeded than the old man would be out of the way

"Well done, Draco. I am pleased that you were able to accomplish this difficult mission. In future you shall be rewarded with greater and more challenging tasks." Voldemort turned his back to stare out of the window, down into the graveyard that had been the scene of his rebirthing.

Draco was staring at his feet. Before coming face to face with Dumbledore he had little doubt of his ability to commit the murder should he get the chance. . He did loathe the man after all. But when Draco had reached that tower, and successfully disarmed the so-called most powerful wizard ever (thank _you_ very much!), the headmaster had been so kind to him that he found he couldn't do it. Dumbledore, who from his appearance seemed to be teetering on the brink of death, had shown his would be killer mercy. He had offered to hide Draco and his family so that the dark lord would not be able to kill them when he, Draco, did not complete the task that was set for him.

Draco had never experienced such behaviour in his life. He was on the verge of accepting when Greyback, Amycus and Alecto had burst through the door onto the tower. He had delayed too long in making his decision. Then Snape had burst onto the tower and with little thought had shot the killing curse at Dumbledore.

"I – I didn't," Malfoy said in a small voice. Voldemort turned to stare at the frightened teenager.

"You didn't?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. The task had not been completed as he had ordered? "You did not complete the task that I set for you?" Draco shook his head. "Tut, tut, Draco," Voldemort said in a quiet, calm voice. ""Have you forgotten the conversation we had about the consequences of not completing your mission?"

Draco shook his head. The calmness in the dark lord's voice caused the teen to resume trembling. He was sure he knew what was coming.

"It seems that dear Narcissa is going to be all alone in Malfoy Manor. Draco you really ought to have taken your orders more seriously." Voldemort raised the wand that he held in his long spider-like fingers, "AVADA –"

"MASTER, WAIT," Snape called. Voldemort looked at Snape, not lowering his wand.

"What Severus?' He asked, turning those scarlet eyes to the man standing before him, his slit-like nostrils flaring again. How dare Severus interrupt him!

"I killed Dumbledore," Snape said, meeting his master's eyes for the first time.

Voldemort's fury now turned from Draco who, having so narrowly escaped death, had sunk to the floor, to the one that had so far been his most useful servant

"You? You saw fit to take this task on when it was made clear to _all _of my Death Eater's that Draco was to do it. Did you take issue with my plan Severus?' The Dark Lord's scarlet eyes were burning into Snape; his voice was barely more than a whispery hiss.

"No, my lord, of course not –" Snape began, not lowering his eyes.

"Then why did you feel the need to disobey them?"

"Narcissa Malfoy asked me to see that the task was fulfilled. She guessed, correctly it seems, that her son would not have the ability to murder Dumbledore," Snape said still staring directly into those angry red eyes. In spite of his abject fear, Draco was able to fix his former professor with an angry look

"I see," Voldemort said coldly. "And exactly how many others seem to have an issue with following my orders Severus?"

"I do not know, master." Snape looked down for the briefest second.

Voldemort was now in a towering temper. He was flitting around the room, his black robes billowing behind him. The dark lord's anger did not bode well for the two Death Eaters before him.

"Who else knew about this little back up plan?" Voldemort fumed. His voice was now starting to rise, a sign that he was likely to curse someone soon

"Bella was our bonder," Snape explained. Yet more unwelcome news to the dark lord.

So, thought Voldemort as he continued to stride around the room, anger pulsating through his veins. Draco, Snape, Narcissa and even dear Bella had decided to disobey him. They would need to be reminded what happened to those who did not follow orders.

Yet, the plan had succeeded. Dumbledore was dead. This meant that he was clear to pursue some of his grander plans. The dark lord would not be too vengeful to his followers. Despite their sudden need to be independent, they had been successful. Some of his anger dissipated.

After another minute or two he turned back to Snape and Draco.

"Very well, they shall be dealt with in due course. Despite certain neglect of the plan, it was no less effective. You two shall be spared." Draco stopped shaking and sighed in relief, Snape merely bowed again. "If –" Voldemort continued, " – you can give me _useful_ information on Harry Potter." He turned to Snape. "You have taught him for six years Severus, surely you know something about the boy."

Snape's lack of useful information on Harry Potter had thus far been an irritation to Voldemort. With the old fool Dumbledore out of the picture, there was no more excuse . . .

Snape raised his gaze. The fury that he had been attempting to contain came back in full measure. Had he not been able to control his temper he might have foolishly spat out that he couldn't see why the dark lord was even bothering with the boy.

"Potter is an arrogant, no talent little prat who gets by on luck and by sponging off the skill of others. He –"

"Silence." Voldemort waved his hand, and Snape immediately fell quiet. "I am not looking for another of your diatribes on Harry Potter. I want information Severus. Do you have anything useful? Anything that will help get to the boy?"

Snape remained still for a few minutes; hatred still etched on his face, and then shook his head. "Nothing new that I can think of at the moment my lord," he said quietly.

"Very well. I shall give you some time to think about it. I expect to see something useful from you two, or I may have to reconsider whether you are worthwhile to keep in my service." Voldemort's face spread into a wide, mirthless grin, his flat nose, and nostril slits giving him an even greater likeness to a serpent.

"Thank you for your kindness master," Snape said. He and Draco bent again to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"Oh yes," Voldemort said slowly. He pointed his wand at the two figures kneeling at his feel, "Crucio!" The duo writhed in agony. Voldemort watched them for a minute, as though bored with the proceedings. Then he lifted his wand. The pair lay there panting, Draco wincing in pain. "That is just a taste. It will be worse if you fail me again. You may go."

With another wave of his wand the two were on their feet. They left the room, walked down the stairs and out of the house, the door opening and closing without their help as it had when they first arrived.

Lord Voldemort watched them walk away from the house and then Disapparate. They had better be of more use this time. He would rather not have to kill Severus, as he had been quite useful. And the boy, given a little time, might be even more useful than his father.

Yes, they had better dig deep and find some information that would be of use in getting to Harry Potter, _the boy who lived_. Voldemort scoffed at the name as Draco had done. True, he had not succeeded in killing him yet, but now with Dumbledore out of the way, and the boy's coming of age in just a few weeks . . .

He looked down at the graveyard again. It was there two years ago that his plan had gone awry. The boy had escaped him yet again. But now, the tide was turning in Lord Voldemort's favor.

Voldemort smiled again and let out a high, cold laugh.

Harry Potter would certainly not live to see his eighteenth birthday . . .


	2. 2 Journey To Platform 9 and 34

CHAPTER TWO: JOURNEY TO PLATFORM NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking back up to the castle to finish packing. Professor McGonagall had said that students would be boarding the Hogwarts Express to return home an hour after Dumbledore's funeral. As it was now over there was only a matter of time before they were going to be heading to Hogsmeade station to begin their trek home.

"So . . . " Ron started, breaking the silence for the first time since reminding Harry about returning to the Burrow during the summer. "Bill and Fleur's wedding, that should be a laugh, eh?" He had fixed a smile on his face, obviously hoping to inject a happy note into what had so far been a very somber and depressing morning.

Hermione shot him a disapproving look. "I don't think that this is the time for jokes."

"I was just –" Ron started, but was cut off by Professor McGonagall, who was striding over to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing.

"Potter, a word please," she said in her usual brisk manner.

"We need to have a quick word before you leave."

"About what?" Harry asked eyeing her skeptically. Sure she was about to ask where he and Dumbledore had gone, Harry readied himself for another refusal.

Professor McGonagall had not been pleased when he refused to tell her where he and Dumbledore had gone the night of the headmaster's death. At the time he was sure that she would not leave it there. When she hadn't asked again Harry had been shocked. As he was going to be returning to the Dursleys that very day, this was McGonagall's last chance to question him. Harry, apart from being asked by Dumbledore not to repeat what they had talked about, was not up to giving anyone a report of his headmaster's ante mortem activities.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore left us some instructions regarding your . . . er. . . living arrangements," McGonagall explained.

Harry stared at her, unable to keep the look of surprise from his face. Living arrangements? This was the last topic that he had thought of discussing with his head of house. Not only did this have nothing to do with the last journey Dumbledore had taken away from the school, it was about a matter he thought had been settled months ago. The headmaster had made it perfectly clear to the Dursleys the previous July that Harry was going to return one more time. Harry, though loathing the fact that he had to return at all, had no plans of disobeying Dumbledore's wishes. McGonagall broaching the topic indicated that Dumbledore had not enlightened anyone else on the conversation..

"Well, Dumbledore seemed to think it _wise_ for you to return to your aunt and uncle's this summer," McGonagall sniffed. She didn't seem keen on the idea.

Harry was starting to feel stupid, as he was still able to do little but stare at her. He was in a state of shock similar to when he discovered that Mrs. Figg, his batty, cat obsessed neighbor in Little Whinging, had known about the wizarding world. Before him stood McGonagall, always stern and formal, showing contempt for people Harry had not even been aware that she knew. It was now obvious that Dumbledore had not told her why it was important for Harry to return to Privet Drive. If he had, she would surely be making more of an effort to argue her position.

"He left recommendations that you return there for at least a few weeks," Professor McGonagall continued, a little more crisply, sounding almost back to her normal self, while Harry still said nothing. "So we - that is the Order - think it wise to stick to this plan. After that, the Weasleys would like to have you return to the Burrow," she finished. Gone was the momentary compassion that she had displayed. The stern demeanor so familiar to Harry was back. She now seemed ready to argue her point should Harry show an unwillingness to cooperate.

"I know I have to go back to the Dursleys," Harry said. "Professor Dumbledore made them aware of that last year when –" he stopped abruptly. Harry found it surprisingly hard to talk about the visit the headmaster had made to Privet Drive. There was nothing really untoward or secretive in the fact that he had come to get Harry the previous July. It was just too painful to think of that night, especially in light of what he now knew. Dumbledore had appeared and it had been the first sight Harry had of his withered hand, remnant of the destruction of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"Ah . . . well . . . good," Professor McGonagall looked shocked for the briefest time, then she sighed. "Well Potter carry on with what you were doing. Remember the train is leaving within the hour. I must get back." She waved her hand in the direction of the mourners that were starting to mill around the White Tomb encasing Dumbledore's body. The headmistress gave a curt nod to Ron and Hermione and then set off down to the lake again. Before she had taken more than two-dozen steps she turned and called after Harry, "Dear me, I almost forgot."

She walked back to the three teenagers. "Obviously, your security is of the utmost importance to us, Harry," she gave him another small smile, her eyes full of compassion again. "There are going to be members of the Order waiting for you when you get off the train in London. To make sure that we minimize the chance of something happening to you, we would ask that you please wait until all of the other students have exited the train, and the platform is nearly clear before stepping off yourself. Naturally, you should not be alone whilst on the train either, just in case. I would therefore recommend that you let the others in your compartment know, and have them wait with you." She turned her head and gave a quick acknowledging bow to Ron and Hermione.

"OK," Harry said slowly and uncertainly. Why did they want him to stay on the train until everyone else was gone? Surely, if someone were going to try and attack him when he got onto the platform, he would be an easier target with less people around. He opened his mouth to make this very comment when it occurred to him that the Order was probably thinking Voldemort might not be quite ready to try something so blatant. If he did have something planned, it was likely to be more covert, thus the less people around, the easier it could be foiled.

""Minerva," a male voice called. McGonagall turned to see who had spoken. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked over her shoulder, squinting against the glare that the sun was casting on the lake. They could see Rufus Scrimgeour walking up to the castle. The minister wore a small smile on his face. He wasn't looking at the headmistress, but at Harry again.

"Professor, are we done here?" Harry asked quickly. He had already had one conversation with Scrimgeour that day and was not keen on having another. The minister was apparently not ready to give up on the idea of convincing Harry to be the ministry's new poster boy. He had thought that he had made it abundantly clear that he was not interested when they had talked earlier.

Professor McGonagall said that they were indeed finished their conversation and added quietly that they should "leave now."

Feeling a wave of gratitude that the headmistress had yet again allowed him to avoid the minister of magic, Harry turned and walked quickly back up to the castle, with Ron and Hermione following him.

"The nerve of him. Doesn't he take no for an answer?" Hermione asked furiously as some of the conversation between the minister and headmistress was carried to them. Scrimgeour was asking why they were rushing off. McGonagall's terse reply that they needed to pack also carried on the air to their ears.

"Apparently not," Ron said angrily.

"Let's just go and make sure we've got everything packed," Harry said wearily. This had already been a long and exhausting day, and it was barely noon. They still had the train journey to contend with.

Far fewer students were taking the Hogwarts Express home than had journeyed to the school in September. A team of Aurors supervised the boarding of the train, causing it to be more orderly and expedient than ever before. Gone were the loud raucous laughter and end of term jubilation. The students were somber, and subdued. The whispers of conversation that were taking place seemed oddly forced.

Harry was glad, for one of the few times in his life, to be leaving the school. He was going to miss the castle, but the past few days had just been too heart wrenching. No matter where he had goon, the topic of conversation was all about the events of the night Dumbledore had died. Harry, once again found that he was being deluged with requests for details about what happened. On the rare occasion when he found himself alone, Harry seemed to be somewhere that reminded him of the headmaster. His recollection of the conversation Dumbledore had with the merchieftainess during the triwizard tournament wasn't an isolated incident.. The school just wasn't the same without Dumbledore.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny took a compartment together. When they were all seated Hermione tried to engage them in a little conversation. Ron, for his part tried to lighten the mood by telling Harry, and the others, that his father had alerted the Improper Use of Magic office that he and Hermione were going to be staying at Privet Drive with Harry, so they would be able to perform magic. Ron had a wide smile on his face.

"I can't wait to see your cousin's reaction Harry," Ron said, letting out a hearty guffaw. Hermione shot him a warning look. "Well, come on Hermione. You can't tell me that the great bullying git doesn't deserve it!"

"That's not the point," she hissed. "Ron, you know perfectly well that we shouldn't use magic to bully people. That would make us no better than the Death Eaters."

Ron, who had stifled his laughter quickly under Hermione's glowering looks, gazed abashed at her, and then at Harry as though checking to make sure that he hadn't overstepped his bounds.

"C'mon Hermione. It's not like we're actually going to do anything to him. But it would be good just to do simple spells in front of him and watch his reaction." Ron looked at Harry. "Won't it?" He asked uncertainly.

"Suppose so," Harry said, shrugging. Taunting Dudley had long ago lost its appeal. In fact, he hadn't done so since the night the Dementors f had appeared in Little Whinging

Necessary though it may be, he was not looking forward to returning to Privet Drive, especially under the circumstances. The last time that he had been there was the night that Dumbledore had come to get him. Yet another place that he had memories of the now deceased headmaster. Then there was the fact that he was returning two weeks earlier than he ought to have done, something the Dursleys were surely going to be angry about. Add to that the fact that Harry was not coming back alone, Ron and Hermione were going to be there with him and an explosion would be more inevitable than lighting a stick of dynamite. Harry's one solace was that after the two weeks that he was obliged to stay with his aunt and uncle he could leave, and would never have to return again.

The Hogwarts Express started to slowly move. It seemed as reluctant to begin this journey as Harry was. He could not help but feel a little despondent over what he was going to. He was leaving the place that had felt most like home to go back to relatives that could not care whether he lived or died, and die he might. Though he dreaded beginning the search for the Horcruxes, Harry knew it was what he had to do. He couldn't just let this war go on when he had the key to defeating the most feared wizard ever. He had to give his all to this search, no matter how much he dreaded the inevitable meeting with Voldemort

When the train had started to move, the little conversation that Hermione had been able to start ceased. The six friends settled into their own thoughts or activities. Luna was reading the latest edition of the Quibbler, as was her pastime of choice during the train journey. Neville was reading a book Professor Sprout had given him; Ron was searching his pockets for something to eat. Hermione was torn between trying to read a large tome that she had pulled from her trunk, and shooting disgruntled looks at Ron, who was sitting beside her and kept elbowing her while he dug in his pockets. Ginny, Harry noticed, had her legs drawn up to her, her arms wrapped around them and her head was resting on her knees. It looked like she was sleeping.

Looking away from Ginny quickly, Harry leaned his head against the window and watched as the train made its way south. Unconsciously, his hand closed around the locket that he kept in his pocket. Despite Hermione's repeated trips to the library, they were no closer to determining who R.A.B was. Until they could ascertain his, or her, identity, they were unlikely to have much chance of finding the real Horcrux.

Harry pulled the locket out of his pocket and started at it. It was significantly different from the one that he had seen in the pensieve. How could he have not noticed it right away? There was a simple answer, Harry told himself. He had been more worried about the effects that awful potion had on Dumbledore, the inferi attack, getting back to Hogsmeade, and everything that had happened at Hogwarts to care about the details on the locket.

After all that they had gone through to get the Horcrux, they had failed. The thought left Harry with a bitter taste in his mouth. Dumbledore had drunk the potion unnecessarily. This was a big part of the reason he was dead. Had he not ingested the potion he would have been able to fend off both Draco and Snape. The battle Harry had witnessed between Voldemort and Dumbledore left him with no doubt about that.

"Harry, what's that?" Neville asked, causing Harry's thoughts to return to the present.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, stowing the locket back in his pocket. "Just something I picked up." He turned his attention back to the scenes that were now speeding past them.

"Sorry Harry. I didn't mean to pry," Neville apologized.

"You didn't. I just don't want to talk about it," Harry replied, still quietly. What had he been thinking pulling out the locket? It would lead to questions, and the last thing that Harry wanted was for more people to know that he had this locket. Dumbledore had said only to tell Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes, after all. This surely meant that he should avoid awkward questions like where he got weird artifacts.

Harry surveyed the compartment again. Ron and Hermione, noticing what he had held in his hands, were looking at him questioningly. Neville and Luna had returned to their reading, but Ginny had lifted her head and was looking at him curiously.. When Harry chanced a glance at her, he thought it looked like she had seen the locket and was trying to place it. When their eyes met, Harry was sure she knew what he had. But how could she? She didn't know about the Horcruxes after all.

"Harry can we have a word outside please?" Hermione said. She looked like she was going to give him a telling off.

"Hermione just leave it," Ron said, as Harry sighed and started to get up. "We'll talk about this later," he added. To both Harry and Ron's amazement Hermione said "fine," and went back to her book. Though she did still look put out.

It was nearly dark when the train finally arrived at King's Cross. The crowd on the platform was much smaller than usual and all seemed apprehensive. They were shifting uncomfortably and casting wary glances at the other waiting people. As students started to disembark, the platform began to empty, quicker than it had ever done before. Within fifteen minutes the last of the students and their parents were gone.

Neville and Luna were the first to leave the compartment, followed quickly by Ron and Hermione. They had barely stepped into the corridor when Ginny put her hand on Harry's arm to stop him leaving.

"Why do you still have that locket? The one you took from Dumbledore that night?"" she asked softly, without preamble.

So she had recognized it. Harry wasn't aware that she had seen it that night. He remembered putting it in his pocket. But he must have done it on the way to the castle.

"I can't tell you," Harry said more curtly than he had intended.. The words were barely out of his mouth when he knew that he should not have been so blunt.

"Why not?" Ginny asked crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, looking extraordinarily like her mother.

"It's not something that I can discuss," Harry tried to explain. He wasn't looking at her, but hoped she would be able to hear the sorrow he felt for snapping before.

"This has something to do with those lessons you were having with Dumbledore and where you went the night he died," Ginny said astutely. It was not a question. "And why you said that we can't be together."

Harry stared at her for a minute before he could find words to speak. How did she always know?

"I can't discuss this with you," he finally managed to say again. "Look we've got to go, everyone's going to worry." Harry started to drag his trunk to one of the exits so he could get it onto the platform.

He was in the corridor when she spoke again.

"Harry I know why you're doing this . . . ending things. You should know that it's not going to work."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked spinning around to look at her. Before she could answer a familiar voice called through the open train door.

"Harry?" it was Remus Lupin. "Are you in there?"

"Yes, we're coming," Harry called back. He looked at Ginny, "Let's go." He waited for her to go in front of him.

On the platform waited a group of people. In addition to Lupin were Mrs. Weasley and five of her six sons (Percy was predictably not there), Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, who had been joined by Hermione. Luna and her father Disapparated just as Harry poked his head out of the train, and Neville called out his goodbye as he and Mrs. Longbottom disappeared through the barrier.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been hugging Ron and Hermione tightly a moment before, ran over to Harry and Ginny and pulled each into a bone-crushing hug. From the ruffled looks of Ron and Hermione, she had hugged them just as tightly.

"What took you two so long?" she asked when she finally released the pair of them.

"We were talking," Ginny said in a disgruntled way. It was not clear whether she was annoyed at her mother for the rib-cracking embrace or Harry for walking out on their conversation. "And we're not quite finished."

"Yes we are."

"No, we're not. Mum we'll be right back." Ginny grabbed Harry by the arm, she pulled him away from the others. When they were sufficiently far enough away so as to be out of earshot she let go.

"Ginny what do you mean you don't think its going to work?" Harry asked, as though they hadn't just been nearly suffocated. He kept his head down as he talked.

"I know that you think you're doing the right thing and I don't want to make this harder for you, but you do realize that breaking up isn't going to keep me safe," she said. "Too many people know. I'll be surprised if Snape hasn't already told Voldemort about us."

"But we aren't together now." It was a feeble argument, Harry knew. But he had thought about it and decided that he would rather take the chance of staying away from her in the hopes of keeping her safe. It was hard. He wanted to be with her so much, but he knew that doing so would mean she was in certain danger.

"Do you really think that's going to matter? You said it yourself; Voldemort went after me just because I was your best friend's sister. What's to stop him from doing something like that again, just on the off chance that you broke up with me for a stupid noble reason?" Ginny asked. She had stepped a little closer to Harry so that she came into his view, even though he was still resolutely looking at the ground. "And how is he even going to know we're not together anymore? It's not like we've taken out ads about it."

"But the way things are now . . . you're safer." Harry stated, still not able to meet her eyes. This was exactly why he had walked away from her at the lake after Dumbledore's funeral. He knew that the more she pressed, the more difficult it would be to stick to his decision. The worst thing was he knew she was right. But he had lost too many people in his life to take even the smallest chances where Ginny was concerned.

"And what about Ron and Hermione?" It wasn't accusatory of angry, but more of a pleading question. "They're going with you to . . . do whatever it is that you're doing. Everyone knows that they're your friends. Won't they be in even more danger than I would? I mean, I'm not asking to go with you or anything."

Harry finally lifted his head and looked directly at her.

"That's different."

"How so?"

"They know what's involved," Harry said. He inwardly groaned at his word choice. The truth was that he hadn't intended for Ron and Hermione to be involved either, but they made their choice, knowing more or less what was involved. At least they knew as much about what was coming as Harry did, and far more than Ginny.

"So tell me too." Their eyes met. Harry could see the pleading tone that he had heard in her voice was also evident in her eyes. "I want to help."

"I can't tell you. Dumbledore didn't want me to tell anyone else," Harry explained. He knew if there were anyone else that he would tell it would be Ginny. Not because she had any special prowess at destroying Horcruxes, but she had almost died because of one of them. If there was anyone else that had a right to know, it was Ginny. And, Harry thought, if there were someone else that he would like to have with him, it would be her.

Voldemort was causing enough havoc in the magical world already. He didn't need an excuse to do any more damage, or murder anyone else. If it got out that anyone knew about the Horcruxes, their lives would surely be forfeit. While Harry was grateful that Ron and Hermione were willing to risk their lives to help him, he couldn't allow anyone else to do that, least of all the person that had been his best source of comfort. No, Ginny was in enough danger already, given the nature of her relationship with Harry. He knew that things were for the best this way. She could stay at the Burrow, away from him, and maybe she would be out of Voldemort's clutches.

"But –" Ginny started again.

"No, Ginny, I'm really, really sorry…" Harry trailed off. He stood there looking at her for another minute. Then he sighed. "It's better this way, for now." He backed away a few steps. It was taking every ounce of strength that he had to walk away again. He had no doubts about what he was doing anymore, but was finding it harder to do than he thought. "I have to go," he said, seeing that Lupin, Mad-Eye, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him at the barrier.

Ginny nodded. She was again wearing a resigned expression. It was the same one she had worn earlier when Harry first told her they needed to stop seeing each other.

Harry took a few more steps backward and was just about to turn around to grab his trunk when Ginny threw her arms around him. He was going to pull away and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, but couldn't seem to muster the strength to do it. Without thinking about it, he put his arms around her.

Before he could wrap his mind around the fact that he was doing the stupidest thing imaginable given what they had just talked about, Harry was kissing her. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that they had forgotten that almost every member of her family was merely feet away. Harry and Ginny were brought back to their senses when several voices shouted, "oi."

Slightly embarrassed, they stepped away from each other.

"What's this?" Mrs. Weasley's shocked voice carried over to them.

"Oh no! Now she's going to start," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes "I'm going to be subjected to an interrogation." Harry, though berating himself for what he had just done, couldn't help but smile at her actions.

"Harry, come on," Ron called. Harry turned to look at the group waiting by the barrier. They were all wearing bemused expressions.

"I've got to go," He said rapidly, "bye Ginny." He grabbed his trunk. Their eyes met one last time. They both understood that despite what had just happened nothing had changed, they were not together.

"Bye, Harry," Ginny said, giving him a little smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes..

With immense effort, Harry turned and started walking over to the barrier that would take him back to the Muggle world, dragging his trunk behind him. For the second time in less than twelve hours Harry Potter walked away from Ginny Weasley.


	3. 3 Leaving The Dursleys

CHAPTER THREE: LEAVING THE DURSLEYS

"HOGWARTS WILL REOPEN," SAYS SCRIMGEOUR

Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour issued a statement last evening that puts to rest recent concerns regarding the fate of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Rumors had been circulating that the prestigious educational facility would not reopen in September. Concerns for students' safety (always a high priority) were heightened when it was confirmed three weeks ago that Death Eaters had infiltrated the castle and were allegedly responsible for the death of headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

But how many students will return? These shocking events have lead many already apprehensive parents to decide not to send their children back come fall. Many parents have told The Daily Prophet that they will instead be teaching their children at home.

"It's just not safe. We were only allowing our children to go because we were assured this kind of thing would not happen. If Hogwarts isn't safe for my children, I am not going to allow them to go," said one witch, who wished to remain anonymous.

The Minister confirmed that the school Governors and current Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, had indeed been discussing the very matter of safety of the castle inhabitants. The ministry confirmed that the previous security spells and enchantments that had been placed on the castle have been restored, and the security hole that allowed for the Death Eaters to enter has been patched. Scrimgeour also confirmed suspicions that the extra security that had been added prior to the last school year had indeed been removed the night of the Death Eater attack.

"We do not yet know why the headmaster saw fit to take this course of action," the Minister said. "There is someone who was reported to be with Dumbledore that night, and might be able to provide us with that information, but so far he is not talking."

Could this someone be Harry Potter? It has also been rumored that the Boy Who Lived was with Albus Dumbledore that fateful night. Harry Potter has refused comment on these claims, but anonymous sources tell us that there were two broomsticks atop the astronomy tower on the night in question, and also that Mr. Potter was the first to know of Albus Dumbledore's death.

At this time, the Daily Prophet is not aware of Harry Potter's intentions on returning to the school. However, based on previous reports of his antics, this reporter wonders whether the school might be safer if he stays away.

Harry sighed as he put the newspaper down. It wasn't because of the news about Hogwarts. He had thought it unlikely that the school would close. But how did a news story about the fate of Hogwarts end with him? Why could the stupid Daily Prophet reporters not stick to facts and leave opinions for the editorials and advice columns? The paper had, once again, seemed to be able to drag him into almost every news story on the first dozen pages. Thankfully, they weren't reporting that he was an attention seeking git like they had done before his fifth year, or that he was the chosen one as was the flavor of last summer. Now, they were reporting on something that had been obvious to Harry for years. They seemed to think that trouble followed him, and that people should avoid famous Harry Potter whenever possible. Harry would have been fine with this, if only the paper would take its own advice. He had been deluged with owls requesting he give an interview, which he flat out refused. His aunt and uncle were not pleased with the plethora of owls that were arriving at the house.

Ron and Hermione had both been apoplectic when the Daily Prophet had started a new campaign against Harry. Ron had stopped reading altogether, or rather had stopped asking Hermione what was in the paper, after the third day. Hermione, for her part, only skimmed the papers, as she would start to sear with anger when she read the stories about Harry that were now being written. She said she thought it was best not to abandon the paper entirely as they needed to stay informed. Ron laughed at this, saying the Prophet was less reliable than Trelawney's brand of divination. Hermione countered by saying they may print something useful one day. She one and so the paper kept coming.

"First Rita Skeeter, then the attention seeking stuff, then the Chosen One, and now this." she said angrily, after a week of the stories. "Harry I don't know how you stand it. If it were me, I'd –"

"We know what you'd do," Ron said, smiling. "I'm sure Rita Skeeter would be more than willing to fill us in on the finer points though."

Their indignation on his behalf was both comforting and amusing to Harry. He was far too used to all of the attention to become too worked up over it himself. And in any case he had other more important worries to occupy his time. Chief among those immediate worries had been Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

Harry hadn't been disappointed in how the Dursleys reacted when he, along with Ron and Hermione stepped through the barrier at King's Cross.

Still lost in thoughts about how he could have let things get out of hand with Ginny, Harry didn't pay much attention to where they were going until Moody nudged him and said, "that's them, eh Potter?" 

About twenty feet from the barrier stood Vernon and Petunia Dursley, looking exactly as they had done the last time that he had seen them. Vernon was purple-faced, his moustache as bushy as ever. Aunt Petunia was looking as bony and horse-faced as she had always done. Their eyes, which had been darting around the station, as if making sure no one they knew was around, narrowed when Harry came into sight.

"Hello," Lupin smiled warmly at the Dursleys from Harry's right, they made no motion to indicate they had heard him.

"Hurry up boy," Uncle Vernon snapped his greeting. "Normal people have to work in the morning and don't have time to go gallivanting all over the country at ungodly hours." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron and Hermione exchange a look.

"I agree. We should go," Lupin said, motioning to Ron and Hermione. The two stepped up beside Harry and made to come with him. Both the Dursleys eyes narrowed even further. They were now only slits.

"What do you mean by this rubbish?" Uncle Vernon asked through clenched teeth.

"Ron and Hermione are coming to stay with me," Harry supplied. Inwardly he cringed. Even though they were in a public setting, he was sure this bit of news would cause his uncle to fly completely off the handle.

"Wh – wh – what?" Aunt Petunia spluttered, looking both aghast and furious. She looked at her husband as if asking what to do.

"I forbid it!"

Uncle Vernon had stepped forward faster than Harry thought possible. His puce colored face was inches away from Harry's. "You know that your abnormality is not tolerated under my roof. I will not stand for more of it, especially around my wife and son."

Ron, who had been watching the Dursleys with a bemused expression, now stepped forward.

"The only people with abnormalities here are you two and your whale of a son," he said.

Although Ron didn't look angry, he could get so at even the slightest provocation. Both Harry and Lupin seemed to be thinking along the same lines, that is they both put precautionary hands on Ron in case he needed to be held back.

"Now you listen here," Vernon Dursley swelled to his full, and considerable, size. "I will not have your lot bandying about my house." His face was fire engine red now. "I accept that he –" he jerked his head in Harry's direction, " – has to stay, but that's where we draw the line. And you can tell Dumberton – or whatever the hell his name is, that we have had ENOUGH."

"Dumbledore's dead," growled Moody making his presence known for the first time.

Harry was pleased to see Uncle Vernon recoil. His last meeting with the battle-scarred ex-Auror had not yet escaped his recollection it seemed. Hulking man though he was, Vernon Dursley now resembled Neville Longbottom when face to face with Severus Snape. His bushy mustache twitched nervously as he surveyed Moody.

"Dead?" Aunt Petunia had her hand over her mouth. She didn't look shocked at her outburst, but rather sad and scared. Harry recalled her reaction when she learned that Voldemort was back. As she had done then, she seemed to have a small idea what this information meant for the world that she had so long asserted didn't exist. Harry wasn't sure why he felt this right now, but he had a strong feeling that his aunt knew more about the wizarding world than she had ever let on.

"Yeah, dead," Moody repeated, glancing briefly at Petunia. Harry was willing to bet that he was keeping his magical eye on Vernon though.

"Given current events, we think it wise they accompany Harry," Lupin said. "It might be prudent for your safety as well," he added, as though it were an afterthought.

The Dursleys shuddered violently. Apparently, they didn't agree with Lupin's assertion.

"We're coming anyway." Ron was glaring at the Dursleys. "They can't stop us."

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

"Now wait just one minute. It's our home. You are not welcome," Vernon Dursley said his teeth clenched in fury again. "I have already said I forbid it."

"Y'sure about that?" growled Moody. He was fiddling with the bowler hat he kept pulled over his magical eye. Uncle Vernon obviously remembered the last time had had seen it because he stepped backwards rapidly, knocking into Aunt Petunia who was cowering behind him, and almost making her fall.

"It's time we move on," Lupin spoke, glancing around at the passers-by. "It's not a good idea for us to stay out in the open too long." He grabbed a trolley that had been abandoned a few feet away and helped Harry, Ron and Hermione load their trunks on it.

The three teens and Lupin lead the procession out of King's Cross Station. The Dursleys followed, with Moody trailing them. The expression on the their faces reminded Harry of one he had seen before on Snape's face, during his third year. The only proof that they hadn't been stunned, or knocked unconscious was that they were still moving on their own.

The drive to Little Whinging was completely silent. Harry, Ron and Hermione were crammed into the back seat with one of the trunks that wouldn't fit in the boot, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon's cages and Crookshanks's basket. Ron and Hermione would every so often exchange incredulous looks, or glance at Harry for reassurance that this was normal behaviour. Harry could only shrug. Honestly, he thought, this was better than he had expected.

When they reached Little Whinging and finally number four, Privet Drive it was a relief. The five occupants piled out of Uncle Vernon's large, shiny company car.

"Get your things and get into the house, quickly," demanded Uncle Vernon. "The last thing we need is ruffians like you bandying about, ruining the neighborhood," He added, glancing around to make sure none of the neighbors were watching.

"What?" asked Ron, who had just regained his full height after reaching into the car to grab Pigwidgeon's cage. He appeared to not have heard what Vernon Dursley had said.

"Don't you use that tone with me," Uncle Vernon controlled his urge to shout, but it was a near thing. By the way he had just acted he had saved his real diatribe for home. "We allow your kind to stay in our house and this is how you react. I always knew you wiz- weirdoes were not a good kind."

Harry was quite shocked at Uncle Vernon's brazenness. For one thing he had actually almost said 'wizard', something that he had only done once before, as far as Harry could recall. He had the urge to burst out and ask, "who are you and what have you done with my uncle?' But he was more shocked by how forward and direct his uncle was being. He had never been so Snape-like in front of a fully qualified wizard before. Next moment Harry realized that Uncle Vernon probably didn't realize that Ron and Hermione were fully qualified.

"Bit rich calling us weirdoes," Ron said. He was grinning mischievously. It was an expression reminiscent of Fred and George at their finest. "I mean you are the parents of the boy who had achieved the feat of being wider than he is tall."

"Ron," Hermione chastised quietly. She was obviously fighting two conflicting feelings – the desire to reprimand and to laugh. This coupled with Ron uttering to the Dursleys something that he had been thinking for years caused Harry to unsuccessfully stifle a snigger.

It was perhaps this attack on her beloved Dudleykins that caused Aunt Petunia to speak up for the first time since her exclamation at the train station.

"You," she shrieked at Harry, "How dare you discuss Dudley with them. How dare you spread lies," she was quite loud. Harry realized that Uncle Vernon wasn't the only one who knew how to bellow.

"I didn't –" Harry started to say, but was cut off by a hearty guffaw from Ron.

"Yeah right. You're the one that's lying. Have you even looked at your great whale of a son? I haven't had to rely on Harry's accounts. I've seen him. That day we came to pick up Harry for the Quidditch World Cup."

Uncle Vernon's eyes were narrowed again. He wasn't likely to forget the day his living room had been blown apart. He did not appear to have remembered Ron though, at least until now. His recollection of the events of that afternoon three years before was perceptible.

"YOU, y – y – you're one of them?" he spluttered through his anger. "One of those red-headed freaks who tried to murder my SON BY HAVING HIM CHOKE ON HIS OWN TONGUE." Uncle Vernon bellowed the last words. They echoed through the empty street.

"Vernon." Aunt Petunia's face was turning this way and that, to see if any of the neighbors were watching. "SSSSSSHHHHH."

Looking absolutely furious, Uncle Vernon quickly shuffled Harry, Ron and Hermione into the house.

The three large Hogwarts trunks, the three teens, and the Dursleys crowded into the small entrance. These less than cozy accommodations did nothing for Uncle Vernon's temper.

"No consideration, none of you," Uncle Vernon continued his tirade. "How you could even have the gall to show your face around here after that egregious – "

"We're here for Harry," Hermione spoke up. She was wearing an expression of incredulity. Harry was quite sure she had underestimated what the Dursleys were actually like. He understood how she could have done this. It wasn't really that hard to do. "Surely that should be all that matters."

"Who are you?" Aunt Petunia asked, rather rudely.

"Hermione Granger." They had been introduced just that evening, this was further proof, to Harry (not that he needed it), that the Dursleys didn't listen to anything that he said.

"And you're –"

"I'm a witch, yes."

Both Vernon and Petunia cringed at Hermione's declaration.

"And frankly I am shocked at you," she said glaring at each of the Dursleys in turn. "The way you react at seeing Harry, especially after everything he's been though. It's despicable. What kind of people are you?" The look she had was one of mixed rage and loathing.

Being questioned on their behaviour by a teenage witch made both of the Dursleys to glower at her.

"I will not be spoken to like this in my own house," shrieked Aunt Petunia. "Especially not when it comes from a freak like you."

"Don't call her that," Ron snarled from his position near the stairs.

"This is my hou-" Uncle Vernon began.

"Yeah, whatever, we know it's your house." Ron waved away the repetitive remark. "You sound like a bloody parrot." The room fell silent as neither Dursley could think of a retort. "Right then," Ron broke the silence. "Harry, where's your room again?" He whipped out his wand and said "Locomotor trunks."

The three trunks rose a foot off the ground and lined up like boxcars on a train at the bottom of the stairs.

"What the hell are you doing?" roared Uncle Vernon, grabbing Aunt Petunia and retreating to the entrance of the living room.

"The laundry," Ron said sarcastically. "What does it look like? I'm taking these to wherever we're staying."

"You can't . . . they'll kick you out . . . ruddy owls again . . . " Uncle Vernon was not able to complete an entire sentence, finally trailing off completely. He had quite the look of wild horror in his eyes.

"Nah, that's only for underage wizards." Ron was barely able to hide his glee. "Both Hermione and I are fully qualified now."

Vernon and Petunia Dursley's skin went from red to green to deathly white in the blink of an eye. To say this was unwelcome news would be the understatement of the millennium.

"Liar,' Aunt Petunia finally whispered.

"Actually he's not," Harry said. It was a little enjoyable seeing his aunt and uncle squirm at this information. Their faces were horror-stricken.

"Anyway," Ron continued, turning away to hide the huge grin that was still on his face. "Should get these upstairs. Where are we staying, exactly?" He looked at Harry quizzically again.

"Er . . . . . " This hadn't been discussed before they arrived. Harry was fairly certain that his aunt and uncle would not want Ron or Hermione staying in the guest room usually reserved for Aunt Marge.

"They're not staying in the guest room. I haven't the time to be playing maid to them." Aunt Petunia said shrilly, proving Harry right

"With me I guess." How they were going to fit he didn't know. Harry's room was already the smallest in the house. It was fine when it was just he and Hedwig, but two other people, along with an overly excited owl and Hermione's ginger cat Crookshanks. . . It was going to be tight.

The trio marched up the stairs and into the smallest bedroom. "It's not that big." Harry explained to Hermione as Ron had seen his room once before. "It's going to be a tight squeeze with all three of us."

"No worries." Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at few objects; they shrank making a little more room. Then she conjured two more beds.

"These are better than camp beds. Hermione you're bloody brilliant. Have I told you that?" Ron said, eyeing the two new pieces of furniture with appreciation. Hermione blushed deeply at the praise, but she was smiling brightly

"My aunt and uncle will go mad if they see these." Harry commented, also with an appreciative glace at them. He doubted that the Dursleys would dare set foot in his room, especially now, but it would almost be worth it to see their reactions, or Dudley for that matter.

The day having been long and tiring, they all decided sleep was the best idea.

They lay in the dark room in complete silence. Ron's snores soon broke the quiet, and Hermione's breathing became rhythmical. Harry was staring at the light on his ceiling that was coming from the streetlamp outside. Despite feeling completely exhausted, he could not get to sleep.

It was starting to get light out when Harry finally fell into an uneasy doze. It seemed that he had barely closed his eyes when there was movement in his room, and the unmistakable sound of Aunt Petunia shrieking and Uncle Vernon bellowing over something.

"What the bloody hell . . . ?" Ron's groggy voice came from Harry's right.

Harry jumped out of bed and was halfway out of the room when he realized Hermione's bed was empty.

" . . . OWLS, NOW FILTHY CATS." were the first words that greeted him when he opened the bedroom door.

Uncle Vernon's voice echoed up the stairs that Harry and Ron were quickly descending. It appeared that Crookshanks had got out of Harry's room and traipsed downstairs.

"I'm really sorry," Hermione's voice carried up to them. Even though they couldn't see her, the tone of her voice was one of high amusement.

"Sorry are you?" barked Uncle Vernon. "That great ugly fur ball is destroying my house and that's all you have to say. Your lot are just . . . ungrateful . . . . er . . . " he seemed to be searching for the right words "RUFFIANS," he finally blurted out.

Harry and Ron entered the living room just in time to hear Hermione burst into laughter. Crookshanks, whom she was holding in her arms, seemed thoroughly put out by her shaking.

"You cannot be serious," she choked out through her gales of laughter. "Not particularly loquacious are you?"

Uncle Vernon swelled indignantly.

"In my own house! You dare to be this disrespectful."

"Yeah, because you've been so respectful to us," Ron replied in an offhand way because he was watching Hermione with a look of surprise on his face. It seemed he couldn't believe Hermione's behaviour. She had never behaved so to an adult before, except Rita Skeeter.

Uncle Vernon was growing purple in the face again. Aunt Petunia, who Harry just noticed, was eyeing Crookshanks with the same look she had given Kreacher the one time he appeared at Privet Drive.

Hermione was still grinning madly as she said, "Who would like to join me in a spot of breakfast?"

She pulled her wand out of the pocket of her dressing gown. Harry glanced at his Aunt and Uncle; their reaction on seeing a wand was always comical.

They didn't fail to disappoint. Aunt Petunia shrieked again and Uncle Vernon, spluttering, backed right into the side table, knocking over several knick-knacks as he did so.

Harry thought Hermione had not noticed their reaction as she twirled her wand and eggs, bacon, sausages and toast appeared out of thin air. Then he saw the corners of her mouth were twitching. She was clearly trying very hard to keep a straight face.

"I'm starving." Ron sat down in front of the table now laden with food. Harry was hungry as well, but like Hermione, was enjoying the reaction of his Aunt and Uncle, who were staring with their mouths agape, apparently too horrified to speak. He sat down slowly and began to pile some of the food on his plate.

"Would you like some, there's plenty?" Hermione asked the Dursleys innocently.

"Isquigood." Ron critiqued, his mouth full of eggs.

They didn't answer. They just slowly backed out of the room as if scared to take their eyes of the trio.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he thought of his Aunt and Uncle's reaction to Ron and Hermione. After that breakfast the Dursleys tended to stay clear of the three teenagers. If Harry chanced to come downstairs by himself he would often hear hissed complaints or demands from them ("you're to clean that up" or "keep that damn cat in your room.") but they would scurry out of any room Ron or Hermione entered.

By and large the few weeks that Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed at number four, Privet Drive were uneventful. They spent many hours talking over the information they had on the Horcruxes and trying to ascertain the location of the next one. They tried to think where the real locket Horcrux was, but came up blank every time.

"It could be anywhere," was Ron's constant refrain? "Mate, we'll be Dumbledore's age by the time we find it."

Harry agreed. He was starting to feel more strongly that this task was insurmountable. If Dumbledore had trouble finding them, how on earth were three teenagers supposed to?

Harry decided that he didn't want to think about the seemingly impossible task ahead of them just now. They had discussed the topic to no end, and as he had no further information to think about, figured he could try not to dwell for once.

He sat down at the window and started absentmindedly down Privet Drive. Ron and Hermione had left that morning. They were going to Hermione's parent's house and then to the Burrow to drop off their school things and pick up anything that they thought they would need for the next four weeks. The next day the trio were going to stay at Grimmauld Place.

Harry didn't want to stay at Sirius's old house. He was sure that it was going to bring back too many painful memories of his godfather. But after some careful deliberation he decided that the alternatives were far worse. He could stay at Privet Drive and endure his Aunt and Uncle for another four weeks, or he could go to the Burrow. And just now the Borrow was the only place that was worse than Privet Drive..

Harry wasn't exactly sure how he felt about how things had been left with Ginny. On the one hand he was glad that she had taken it as well as she did. He didn't know how to deal with girls that cried. As torn as he was about breaking up with her if she had cried he wasn't sure he could bear it. On the other hand, a small and loathsome part of him was a little hurt that she hadn't. Did she not feel that strongly about him after all?

Harry knew he was being stupid. Ginny's demeanor was one of the reasons he liked her so much. She wasn't a human hosepipe like Cho had been. But all the same . . . .

The sun was starting to sink behind the neat square houses on Privet Drive as Harry sat lost in his recollections and reflections. He was staring out the window but not really seeing. He was, therefore, taken aback when he spotted movement on the street below. He saw what looked like a dozen cloaked figures moving quickly up Privet Drive.

His sense of foreboding at peak levels, Harry snatched up his wand and dashed from his room. He ran down the stairs as quickly as he could and into the living room, where his Aunt and Uncle sat watching television.

Without preamble he hurried over and shut off the television (which had been the only source of light in the room).

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" bellowed his uncle.

"Shut up," Harry hissed. He was peering through the curtains trying to see who was approaching.

"How dare you –"

"There's someone coming, and I don't think it's a friendly visit," Harry explained rapidly, not taking his eyes off the street. From this level they all seemed to be running. The group was about thirty seconds away from number four's garden path when one of them pulled out a wand and something large and silvery erupted. It took Harry a minute to recognize it as Tonks's patronus.

Temporarily relieved he ran to the front door of number four and threw it open. Seven people piled in, the last in slammed the door.

"Wotcher, Harry," came Tonks's breathless voice

"Hey, Tonks," Harry said. "What's going on? Why're you all running up Privet Drive as if Death Eaters –"

Before he could finish his question he heard several loud CRACKs that sounded as if they had come from the end of the street.

"They are." Hermione answered in a frantic voice.

Each of the people that had run into Privet Drive had lowered their hoods. Standing there were Tonks, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Moody, Charlie Weasley and, most surprisingly of all, Ginny.

Caught off guard, Harry stared at her for a few seconds, forgetting the impending Death Eater attack. He was snapped out of it by Lupin's hurried explanation.

"We haven't much time to talk Harry; we're here to take you and your Aunt and Uncle to headquarters."

Harry's bewilderment increased.

"We're not going," Uncle Vernon's voice came from the living room door.

"There's no time to argue." Tonks ran over and grabbed Aunt Petunia.

Before it had registered that she had moved there was another loud CRACK and the two women disappeared.

Uncle Vernon stared blankly at the spot where his wife had been a moment before.. He was at a complete loss for words. He was in such a deep state of shock that he didn't even put up a fight when Moody grabbed his arm and Disapparated with him.

"We'll explain everything in a bit," Lupin told Harry. He motioned for Ron and Hermione and Charlie and Ginny to Disapparate first. They vanished in an instant. "Let's go, Harry." Lupin said quickly He grabbed Harry's arm, rather harder than he would normally have done, in haste and twisted away.

Harry prepared himself for the unpleasant squeezing sensation that accompanied Apparition.

Nothing happened.

"What the –" Lupin had stumbled and would have fallen if Harry hadn't grabbed him.

"Anti-Apparition jinx?" Harry asked.

"Probably," Lupin agreed. "Let's hope they just put it on the house. Come on.'

They dashed through the kitchen and into the back garden just as they heard the front door crash in. At that same moment Harry felt the all too familiar searing pain in his scar. He screwed up his eyes as they took the last few steps into the back garden.

"He's here," Harry gasped, through the pain he was feeling. "Voldemort –"

Lupin didn't respond, but Harry was sure that he had heard him; because Lupin's renewed grip on his arm was so tight Harry was already starting to lose feeling in his fingers.

"Let's go," Lupin said quietly and twisted away.

Harry had the briefest glimpse of Voldemort's scarlet eyes and skull white face staring at him from the kitchen door before he felt the familiar unpleasant sensation of Apparition – yet this time he didn't mind it so much.


	4. 4 Grimm Tales

CHAPTER FOUR: GRIMM TALES

They stumbled as they appeared in the grubby square that held headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The others were all standing near the door; Moody was looking to make sure that everyone had indeed made it.

"Hurry, get in," he growled, more urgently than Harry had ever heard. The ten of them piled in.

The entrance hall was as dark and dismal as it had been the last time Harry had been there. He looked around despondently. Nothing here seemed to scream out with Sirius's presence. Before coming, Harry would have thought not having reminders of Sirius would be a relief, but now he was here it bothered him that he didn't feel more connected with his godfather.

"There." Moody's voice cut right through Harry's thoughts. "We're all locked up. Now let's get out of here."

"Molly's in the kitchen, no doubt she's made a feast," Lupin said, a small smile playing across his face, which still carried a worried expression.

The crowd was so large that Harry, much to his surprise, had momentarily forgotten that the Dursleys were there.

"Where are we?" Aunt Petunia spoke first, staring around with revulsion on her face. Though her reaction was justified (the house was still filthy) Harry was a little annoyed at her for it..

"This is Harry's house, and headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The Anti-Voldemort group." Hermione explained, adding the latter part upon seeing the Dursleys blank expressions. Ron and Charlie shuddered at the name.

"Your house?" Uncle Vernon asked looking around interestedly. "The one your godfather left you?"

Harry nodded glumly.

"It's horrible," Uncle Vernon said cheerfully. A gleeful look was spreading across his face. "But what else would you expect from an escaped murdering freak?"

"Excuse me?" asked Charlie fiercely. He was wearing a revolted look similar to Aunt Petunia, but Harry could see his revulsion was for the Dursleys, not the house. "Not a very smart thing to say in a house full of wizards and witches, especially ones that have just saved your sorry asses."

"Yeah, Charlie, well you should know he's not that brilliant," said Ron.

"I think something to eat would be a good idea," Lupin interrupted loudly. "Let's go. And remember to be quiet in the hall."

The group moved to the kitchen, the Dursleys going with not much fuss, much to Harry's surprise.

Mrs. Weasley was indeed cooking up a feast to feed an army. When the ten people entered she shrieked her delight and ran to give Harry one of her huge bone-crushing hugs.

"Thank goodness you're all safe," she said, tears falling freely. "When we heard we were worried that we'd be too late,"

"Heard what exactly?" Harry asked. Now they were safe at Grimmauld Place he wanted to know what was going on. "I thought that the wards Dumbledore –" he stopped again. Even now, saying the name of his former headmaster was a little hard. "I thought that the wards would make Privet Drive safe for at least another month."

"So Dumbledore – and we – believed," said Lupin, sitting down at the table and motioning for the others to do the same.

"Well, what changed?" Harry asked. He was sure that Dumbledore hadn't made a mistake. Although the great wizard had admitted that he was not infallible, he surely would have known if the protection around Little Whinging had some glaring hole in it. But maybe, Harry thought rapidly, Dumbledore had been doing something to the wards when he was alive to keep them up, strengthening them somehow.

"Well, we don't know anything for certain," Lupin started. "But it seems that there were a few things that kept the wards up. And there are things that cause their strength to decay." With this utterance Lupin glanced from Ron and Hermione to the Dursleys. "Dumbledore knew about these of course, but it seems he either miscalculated on the decay, or Voldemort is stronger than we thought." Again there was a collective shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Harry was about to ask what he meant when Lupin continued.

"The wards were set up to work in conjunction with the protection Lily left in you when she died. And they were there until you turned seventeen."

"Yes, and?" Harry knew all this already. He didn't want to be bored with repeat explanations.

"Well certain things can cause the protection to weaken. They slowly degrade over time anyway. But having other adult wizards around lessens their strength." Lupin explained. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. They were both looking rather ashamed and guilty.

"Harry we're really sorry. We didn't know," Hermione said, near tears.

"Don't worry," he told her. Just then something occurred to him. "Is that why he always had Mrs. Figg watching out for me?" Before anyone could answer though he realized something else; two summers ago it hadn't been only Mrs. Figg watching him. "But after the graveyard . . . " he trailed off.

"The wards aren't significantly reduced by having other adult wizards there, which is why we gave the go ahead for Ron and Hermione to come with you. Two summers ago the wards were sufficiently strong enough for several adult wizards or witches to be around you. But now . . . " Lupin was quiet for a moment before continuing, "if it were just the small weakening because of others we wouldn't be concerned. But that's not all. There are other things," he said, glancing at the Dursleys now. He tried to keep his face impassive but a small frown crossed it.

"What?" Harry asked. This had something to do with his Aunt and Uncle? They weren't magical, how could anything they do affect magical barriers around Privet Drive?

"Well . . . " Lupin seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "The wards are strengthened by love. That is, familial love," he paused. Every set of eyes in the kitchen now turned on the Dursleys. Harry was sure he knew what was coming next. "While Petunia accepting you allowed the wards to work, the less than loving feelings they had for you didn't allow the protection to be as strong as it should have been. And as these feelings increased in their negativity that further decreased the protection surrounding Privet Drive," Lupin finished quietly.

"That's why You-Know-Who was able to force his way into Privet Drive tonight." Tonks said.

"Why would Dumbledore not have told me about this when he told me about everything else?' Harry asked, more to himself than the others.

"Honestly, we don't know Harry," Lupin said. "We think he just may not have taken into account the rate at which the wards would decay. Or maybe they felt more animosity towards you than he realized. Or maybe he didn't count on so many fully qualified wizards entering Privet Drive. Maybe it was a combination of all of these things. We may never –"

"Rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "Absolute nonsense. I still agree with Marge. We should have sent you straight to an orphanage. You've been more trouble than you're worth."

"He probably would have been much happier there too," Ginny spoke up for the first time, her voice trembling with rage. Harry jumped; he hadn't realized she was standing beside him. The expression on her face was one of pure hatred.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley reprimanded her daughter. "That's not the way you talk to-"

"What my elders?" Ginny rounded on her mother. "Because they certainly aren't my betters." When her mother made to speak again Ginny moved in front of Harry and shot out, "Really mum, you know how bad they treated Harry. After all those years of bad treatment and now they're still causing problems."

"Enough," Mrs. Weasley said sharply.

"Mum -"

'It's OK," Harry said, putting a hand on each of her shoulders in case she needed to be held back.

"It isn't. If we hadn't heard about this you could have died tonight." Ginny rounded on Harry, stamping her foot in frustration. Her voice was both angry and upset.

"But I didn't." Harry smiled weakly at her. They looked at each other for a minute. They each were trying to bring the other over to their point of view, without saying a word. After Harry gave her a pleading look to drop it, Ginny finally gave in. They hadn't noticed that everyone in the room was watching them.

To avoid being asked questions he didn't have the answers to, Harry quickly cast around for something to say.

"How – how did you hear about Voldemort coming to Privet Drive anyway?" he asked realized he hadn't got an answer.

"Snape." Ginny answered.

All eyes were on Harry again. He was angry in an instant. Before he could speak, Ginny added, "He didn't tell us about Voldemort coming specifically, but about the Death Eaters."

"He told you that did he?" he asked through clenched teeth. Voldemort would have come himself because Harry was like an irksome fly that he wanted to squash. He didn't spend much time on this thought, but Harry knew it was right.

"Yes. And its good he did otherwise all hell could have broke loose," Charlie said.

"Why is he even still out there?" Harry roared. "You obviously saw him. How could you let him get away after her murdered Dumbledore?"

"He explained that. It was a long standing arrangement between them," Lupin said calmly.

"Yeah right," Harry snorted in disbelief. "You don't really believe his rubbish?" he shot at Lupin, and the rest. "What else was he going to say?" He started stomping around the room furiously. "I don't want him here." He said finally.

"Harry –" started Lupin again.

"No, this is my house –" he flinched at the words, it was the first time he could recall saying them. " – and if I don't want him here that's my choice."

"But –"

Harry was still fuming and he felt that if they stayed on the topic of that greasy–haired git he just might start breaking things.

"So why are they here anyway?" Harry alighted upon his aunt and uncle. A more important and perplexing question occurred to him. How had they even got to Grimmauld Place? The only people that could find this place were ones that had been told of its location by the secret keeper. Dumbledore was dead there was no way that he could have told them. Unless . . .

Several thoughts occurred to Harry. Maybe Aunt Petunia was in contact with Dumbledore. Perhaps the headmaster had kept in contact with her after the Dementor attack. Wait, Harry thought to himself, the day Dumbledore had come to get him from Privet Drive he had mentioned the location of this house. How could Harry not have realized how odd this was? He supposed that he had been paying much more attention to the conversation that was going on and how the Dursleys were reacting to being rapped smartly on the head by floating glasses of mead. They were able to see number twelve, Grimmauld Place because the secret keeper had revealed its location to them.

Aunt Petunia was fidgeting, Harry was sure it was still her revulsion due to the state of the place.

"We couldn't leave them. If Voldemort showed up and you were gone do you think he would have left them alone? Would you really want to subject even them to Voldemort?" Lupin asked . Harry glowered at Lupin for a moment wanting to contradict him, but as the words sunk in he realized that he wouldn't wish Voldemort's wrath on anyone . . . except maybe Snape.

"No, I guess not," he said in a dull defeated voice as he sank into a chair at the table.

"I should think not," said his uncle. "We kept you for sixteen years, you should be grateful –"

"So what about Dudley?" Harry interrupted. "He's supposed to be coming home tomorrow, there's not going to be anyone to get him."

Aunt Petunia gave a horrified gasp. She seemed to have come out of her stupor. This explained why she hadn't mentioned her precious son before now. She was gazing dumbstruck at her own forgetfulness.

"Arthur and Kingsley are getting him as we speak," said Mrs. Weasley. "In fact, I'd rather have thought they'd be here . . . " she lapsed into silence, staring nervously at the clock over the fireplace.

"I'm sure they're fine, mum," said Charlie who had sat down in the chair to Harry's left, while Ginny took the chair to his right.

"D – D – Dudders, alone with you lot," Uncle Vernon shivered involuntarily. "What damage will be done when he gets here? A tail, that tongue, those demember things . . . " As he recalled each encounter his son had with the wizarding word, Uncle Vernon started to swell, getting more and more red in the face. He was going to start yelling again, soon.

"Nothing is going to happen to him. He's in very safe hands," Mrs. Weasley reassured. The effect was a little diminished because she was still glancing at the clock.

"Just what I'd expect from a load of weirdos," Uncle Vernon mumbled though they all heard it.

"Shut up," Ron and Ginny both moaned, rolling their eyes in unison.

"That's very stupid of you to say those things in a house full of wizards and witches," growled Moody's voice. He had dispensed with his bowler hat and his magical eye was whizzing around the room.

"Stupid – that's the word I was looking for to describe them." Ron slapped his forehead in mock recollection.

"Ronald," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "I don't want to hear talk like that from you."

"But it's true. They're -"

"NO," she snapped again, looking at him sternly. She was still standing and, though much shorter than Ron, was causing him to cower.

"That's right." Uncle Vernon was wearing a smug grin on his face. "That's the smartest thing any of you have said all night."

"Don't you dare start," Mrs. Weasley spun to glare at him. "This is not your house; you cannot get away with your rubbish here."

"I beg your pardon," Uncle Vernon said fiercely, getting to his feet, his girth filling a significant portion of his side of the table.

"You heard me. You've done enough horrible things to Harry to warrant a lot more unpleasantness than staying here would bring you." Mrs. Weasley's tone was verging on fury. Harry was reminded of the way she would yell at Fred and George when they had done something wrong, like flying Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia to come and get him from Privet Drive.

"You don't believe what he tells you?" scoffed Aunt Petunia, "He's a nasty liar."

"No he isn't," Ginny spoke up again, glaring daggers at the Dursleys.

"Yes he is. What would a little girl like you know about it?" Aunt Petunia shrieked.

"A hell of a lot more than you," Ginny half-shouted, getting to her feet.

"GINEVRA WATCH YOUR MOUTH," Mrs. Weasley yelled at her daughter.

"I always knew that we were wrong to get mixed up in anything you were involved in boy," Uncle Vernon said. "But now you're almost an adult – what is it now, four weeks – you can stay out of our lives, and we will be more than happy to do the same. Once Dudley gets here we can go back to our nice normal lives." He stood up, reaching for Aunt Petunia's hand. When she too had got to her feet they started to edge their way to the door.

"I'm sorry but you can't leave," Lupin said kindly, but firmly. "It's –"

"We are going home," Uncle Vernon said, not ceasing his movement to the kitchen door, Aunt Petunia in tow.

"I don't think so." Moody and Charlie moved to block the door. When Uncle Vernon seemed ready to ram them like a bull they pointed their wands at him. This did the trick. He stepped away wearing an expression akin to having a gun pointed at him.

"It's no longer safe for you at Privet Drive," Lupin continued, as though an altercation had not almost occurred.

"Voldemort is not one to sit idly by and let people go about their daily lives. He is sure to have Death Eaters stationed around Little Whinging now –"

"WHAT EATERS?" Uncle Vernon's eyes were narrowed suspiciously, as though he thought Lupin was having him on.

"Voldemort's followers," Harry said dully.

'Yes exactly. And if there is even the slightest sign of life at Privet Drive you can bet they are going to act. Maybe it would be for pure sport, or because Voldemort thinks he can get to Harry that way, but in any case we would be signing your death warrant if we let you go back." Lupin finished.

"Ridiculous," Uncle Vernon muttered. "Even if we believed this codswallop, which I'm not saying we do mind, where would we stay, eh?"

"The safest place would naturally be here," Lupin said. "That is, if Harry consents to it, of course." He turned to look at Harry as he made this proclamation. Harry had never seen such an expression on his former professor's face, but it was one that would be very befitting of a former marauder.

Harry didn't say anything at first. He was experiencing a myriad of things. He could say no, and let them feel how it was to be without a proper home. Or he could say yes and hold it over their heads for the rest of their lives. Or he could be the bigger person and say yes, with no strings attached.

"Yes, they can stay," He consented finally.

"Well there you go. That was really nice and generous –" Lupin emphasized this word " – of your nephew."

"We're not staying here?" cried Aunt Petunia shrilly. "Look at this place . . . it's abhorrent. Whatever will Dudley do in this . . . .this . . . " she searched for the right word to describe Grimmauld Place. "This place?" Aunt Petunia said the last two words in a tone filled with disgust.

"Well . . . maybe not sit on his fat ass all day," Ron said quietly. "He can help with the cleaning or something."

"What? And be your slave. NEVER," roared Uncle Vernon.

"Oh right because we forgot. You are the supreme ruler of Muggles and can solely dole out slavery as you see fit," Ron said sarcastically.

"Why you little bas –" Uncle Vernon bellowed lunging at Ron.

In the sudden cacophony of noise that erupted, Uncle Vernon's statement went partially unheard.

When Vernon had projected himself towards Ron, the tall red-head was surrounded quickly by Charlie, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Moody rushed forward, wand aloft, and Harry was sure he had a stunning spell at the ready. Lupin and Tonks had situated themselves between the Dursleys and the Weasleys, in case things got physical. Hermione had retreated into a corner, looking scared.

"ENOUGH." Harry had to scream more than once to be heard over all the other shouting voices. After three attempts he was finally able to make himself heard. The noise died as quickly as it had arisen.

Everyone was again looking at Harry. The silence stretched on for what felt like tem minutes, but was more like twenty seconds. No one turned their eyes from him.

Finally he spoke, in a weary voice.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, I don't like being here anymore than you do, believe me. But its like Lupin says it is the safest place to be right now," he sighed. "I'm not going to force you to stay, but I've seen Voldemort and his followers in action. It's not pleasant. They would just as soon torture and murder you as look at you. If you want to go out there and risk that kind of end, well . . . " he sighed again. "It's your choice I guess. But how would you feel if the same thing that happened to my mum and dad happened to you, and Dudley was left without parents?"

The horror of this idea was clearly discernible on their faces. As though they were open books everyone was able to read their decision long before they spoke a word.

"Fine . . . we'll stay," Uncle Vernon said in a meek voice, quite unlike his own.

There was another tense moment of silence as everyone reclaimed their seats.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the clock again.

"They're really late. You don't think that You-know-who –"

"Molly I'm sure they're fine," Lupin reassured her again, though he seemed less sure himself, "How about we eat something?"

"Yes, of course." Mrs. Weasley got up, and with Ron, Hermione and Ginny's help (she steadfastly refused Harry's) they began serving dinner. The Dursleys refused anything.

"Fine, more for us." Ron's words were a little muffled because his mouth was already full of steak and kidney pie.

They had all just settled down to eat when Moody spoke up.

"They've just arrived in the entrance."

"Oh thank goodness," Mrs. Weasley cried in relief. Her fork clattered onto her plate as she hurriedly dashed from the room. The others were quick to follow.

When they reached the entrance they were greeted by Mr. Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who were both slightly out of breath. They had their arms positioned as if holding someone up, but at first Harry couldn't see anyone. Then he realized they must have placed the Disillusionment charm on Dudley. He was right. Kingsley tapped his wand on something solid that didn't seem to be there and Dudley's listless form came into view.

Aunt Petunia screamed when she glanced at her son, and next moment Mrs. Black's voice could be heard screaming out her usual diatribe of _"Half-bloods, filth, scum of the earth . . . " _causing Aunt Petunia to scream again.

"Will you shut up," Charlie said irritably as he pushed past her to help Mr. Weasley and Kingsley while Lupin and Moody went to deal with the portrait.

"There we go," said Kingsley's deep voice a moment later, when they had deposited Dudley on a moth eaten couch in the drawing room that held the Black Family Tree.

"Yes that was unexpectedly difficult," said Mr. Weasley, as he cleaned his glasses on his robes.

"Why's that Arthur dear?" asked his wife. It was Kingsley who answered.

"Why didn't you tell us Potter?"

"What?" Harry asked perplexed. How was he supposed to know how difficult it would be to abduct Dudley from Smeltings?

"We'd've been more prepared if we knew. He put up a much bigger fight than we had counted on. Nasty stinging hex this one laid on me. It was after that we had to stun him."

"Stinging hex?" Harry asked, his confusion growing. He looked at Dudley blankly for a minute and then it him.

_Dudley was a wizard._


	5. 5 Dursley Dilemmas

CHAPTER FIVE: DURSLEY DILEMMAS

Everyone looked as though they too had been stupefied.

"This has got to be a joke," Ron spoke up. "There's no way he can be . . . "

Harry, who was easily the most surprised at this revelation, felt as if his brain was reeling so fast it was going to explode. How could Dudley, one of the most magic fearing people in the world, be a wizard? Ron was right, this had to be some sort of a joke. If Fred and George had been there Harry would have been assured that they had a hand in this.

But as time went on, things started to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

Aunt Petunia had always been very indulgent to her son. Harry had never really considered this as being anything more than his Aunt and Uncle's way of showing their son they cared. Uncle Vernon always seemed to do whatever Aunt Petunia wanted. It must have been her decision to spoil her son rotten. When Dudley threw a tantrum it was just so that he could get whatever he wanted more quickly. He had never really been upset in his life. Harry recalled that the times he had performed unintentional magic was when he had been under stress. It seemed likely, in fact probable, that a lot of the way Dudley had been treated by his parents was so that he would not exhibit those magical tendencies.

As all of these connections ran through his head like a speeding train, a conversation from about a year ago flooded to the forefront of Harry's mind.

"_You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you." _

At the time, Harry had thought he meant that Dudley had been spoiled. Now, however, it seemed painfully obvious that Dumbledore was referring to the fact that they, or more likely Aunt Petunia, had been denying Dudley the chance to be what he actually was.

"What now?" barked Uncle Vernon, looking at the shocked expressions on the faces of everyone in the room. He could really be surprisingly dense sometimes, Harry thought. "Are you all barking mad, or what?" He looked at his wife for reassurance of his position.

Aunt Petunia was wide-eyed. She had her hand over her mouth. From her reaction Harry was sure he had been right, she had not told her husband about the fact that his own son was magical.

"Petunia?" asked Uncle Vernon quietly and uncertainly. "They're talking nonsense, are – aren't they?" his voice wavered uncharacteristically.

Aunt Petunia very slowly lowered the hand that was covering her mouth.

"Vernon, I . . ." she said so quietly they all had to strain to hear her. "I wasn't sure . . ." she said, looking at her husband with a pleading expression. "I mean Lily was and I wasn't, and you aren't so I hoped . . . but then when _he_ came –" she jerked her head at Harry, " – there were . . . incidents . . . .and I knew we couldn't have our son be one so I asked Mrs. Figg, and she –"

Aunt Petunia suddenly stopped talking. Tears, real ones, were starting to stream down her face. Uncle Vernon however was not crying. He was once again inflating like a balloon.

"SEVENTEEN YEARS PETUNIA? YOU HAVE KEPT THIS FROM ME FOR SEVENTEEN YEARS? YOU KNEW THAT OUR SON HAD THIS – THIS – ABNORMALITY, AND YOU SAID NOTHING. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"

He actually looked quite scary. Harry had seen his uncle mad before, furious, in fact. This level of rage however surpassed anything that Harry had ever experienced.

"I think we should leave them alone," Mrs. Weasley said. When Aunt Petunia had started spluttering her explanation the others had backed away. At Mrs. Weasley's suggestion they all piled out, closing the door behind them.

Uncle Vernon's shouting wasn't much quieter out here, and had woken the portrait of Mrs. Black again.

"Don't bother with the portrait for now." Lupin told everyone. "If he's going to keep shouting like that it's just going to keep setting her off. Let's go back to the kitchen and try to eat something."

They did just that. The basement kitchen allowed them to block out most of the shouting, both from the portrait and from Vernon. It was impossible to distinguish what either shrieking voice was saying.

"Blimey, he's got quite the pipes on him, hasn't he?" Tonks said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Tonks had screwed up her face in an effort to block out some of the noise.

"I'm sorry to say that I think he has a point in this case," said Mr. Weasley as he pushed away his empty plate. "Regardless of how he feels about magic, his wife should have told him what she suspected. If there's one thing that you need in a marriage its honesty."

"Absolutely right Arthur," said his wife. "They should have talked about this ages ago. You lot –" she rounded on all of the young people sitting at the table. "- bear this in mind when you do get married. If you keep things secret this is what can happen." She seemed suddenly stern.

"Right mum," said Charlie with a smile on his face. "But none of us are likely to be getting married here any time soon. Well maybe –" he shot a mischievous glance at Lupin and Tonks, who both blushed and looked away from him. Charlie chuckled. "But seriously mum. You should really be having this conversation with Bill and Fleur. They are the ones that are getting married in a month."

"Oh, I will be, don't you worry," Mrs. Weasley said, as she started to serve dessert.

It was delicious as usual. She had made another rhubarb crumble. Harry didn't talk much as he ate his dessert. It was the same dessert he had the first night he had come to Grimmauld Place. He listened despondently to the conversation that was going on around him. It was happy chatter. The direness of the evening's events seemed to have dissipated, and talk had turned to much happier topics, like Bill and Fleur's impending nuptials.

Harry didn't take part in the conversation. He was looking around the room in vain, hoping that something here would have left more of a reminder of Sirius. Nothing stood out in his mind.

After a time the house seemed to quiet a little. Mrs. Black was still shrieking her insults, to no one in particular, but Uncle Vernon's voice could no longer be heard.

"I think it's safe to shut up that portrait," Charlie said. "It looks like he's finally lost his voice, or something." Mrs. Weasley gave her son a disapproving look at the comment, but said nothing.

"I'll help you," Lupin offered, and the two left. A few moments later there was silence once again

"Finally," Ron and his mother said at the same time.

"You should all get to bed. It's after midnight," Mrs. Weasley advised, checking the clock. "It's going to be a tight squeeze in this house with all of us," she looked fretful for a second. "I suppose we'll manage. At least this house has more rooms than the Burrow."

"How long are you guys going to stay here?" Ron asked.

"We don't know yet." It was very slight, and had he blinked he probably would have missed it but Harry was sure he saw Mr. Weasley's eyes flick from himself to Ginny.

"Oh," Ron said. He stood up, Hermione following him. "Well goodnight." The two of them left the kitchen, followed shortly by Charlie, Lupin and Tonks.

"Alastor are you sure that you don't want to stay tonight?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Moody pulled on his traveling cloak.

"No thanks, Molly. I've got to go home. There are a few things that I have to take care of."

"All right, if you're sure," Mrs. Weasley said as if she didn't think much of Moody's plans. She went back to putting away the remains of the dinner that she had just served. Both Harry and Ginny had offered to help her, but she had refused.

"I'll walk you out." Mr. Weasley and Moody left. The three remaining inhabitants did not speak. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, and the clinking of the dishes that were washing themselves in the sink.

A few minutes later Mrs. Weasley stowed her wand back in her apron, everything having been cleaned up and put away.

"Well you two I think you ought to consider going to bed too."

"– DON"T CARE JUST LET ME OUT OF HERE," came Uncle Vernon's bellow, closely followed by fresh shouted from Mrs. Black's portrait.

"What now?" Mrs. Weasley cried wearily as she, Ginny and Harry rushed out of the kitchen to find out what the renewed shouting was about.

"CALM DOWN MAN!" Moody's growl-like shout was the next thing they heard.

"I DAMN WELL WILL NOT CALM DOWN. I WANT OUT OF THIS DAMNED HOUSE AND AWAY FROM ALL OF YOU PEOPLE. I AM GOING TO MARGE'S." Uncle Vernon screamed just as Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley came up the stairs from the basement kitchen.

"Mr. Dursley – er – Vernon –" Mr. Weasley started, "Surely you realize how dangerous it is to be out there, what with You-Know-Who running around unchecked. This would really be –"

"I'D BE IN MORE DANGER HERE WITH YOU LOT THAN AT MY SISTER'S."

"NO YOU WOULDN'T, UNCLE VERNON," Harry yelled to make himself heard over the screaming portrait. "Voldemort hates Mugg – people who aren't magical. He's causing havoc all over the place. All those accidents that happened last summer – those were his doing – the Dementors are running around the country. Death Eaters membership is growing exponentially – and they're starting to invade everywhere. There have been several mass-Muggle disasters associated with him. It would only be a matter of time before –"

"I don't want to hear any more of this rubbish," Uncle Vernon said through clenched teeth. At least he had stopped shouting again. "I have had enough of you and your whole freaky family. I am going back to normal society, where puddings don't explode, tongues don't swell up, and sisters don't swell either. I'm just going."

He headed for the door, which was magically locked. He started at it for a few minutes. The locks on this door were not ordinary Muggle deadbolts, or door knob locks. They were chains and bolts that would take a Muggle several hours to disconnect.

"How the hell do I get out of here?" he asked the door.

"You can't, at least not without magic," Mr. Weasley explained, stepping up behind Uncle Vernon, who jumped and turned to face the wizard before him, with fear on his face. He was suffering from the delusion that he was going to be attacked or hexed.

"Vernon, do you really think that it's going to be the best thing for your wife and son for you to leave them at this time, when there is so much danger out there?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"I want nothing more to do with them," Uncle Vernon said, his face turning red, wearing an angry expression.

"You don't really mean that," Mr. Weasley responded with a small smile on his face. "The discovery that your son is a wizard is a nasty shock, no doubt about that. But surely after you have had some time to think it over, it won't be so bad. You and Mrs. Dursley can work this out."

"No, we cannot. Now, how do I get out of this freak show house?" Vernon Dursley turned his attention back to the door, although he kept shooting nervous glances back at Mr. Weasley.

"Arthur a word, please?" Mrs. Weasley called. She and Moody were standing back engaged in whispered conversation. Harry moved closer to them so he could hear what they were saying.

"I think we should just let him go," Mrs. Weasley stated. "He's obviously in shock, and if he doesn't want to stay here we really can't force him. Some time apart would probably do more good than harm."

"Molly you can't really think that a man abandoning his wife and child is a good idea." Mr. Weasley said. Harry was surprised to hear a note of anger in his voice. Mrs. Weasley was usually the one that got worked up at things; Mr. Weasley was the laid back one of the pair.

"No Arthur, of course not. But given the circumstances . . . "

"How are we going to explain this to the boy?"

"We don't have to. His mother can do that," Mrs. Weasley said. "Moody can Apparate him to his sisters. I bet a few days there, some time away from us, and he'll realize that he's made a mountain out of a molehill."

Harry snorted at this statement. Time away might be a good idea. It would certainly make the house quieter. But he doubted that his uncle would be able to get over the shock that his own son had magical ability in a few days. Harry was willing to bet that his Uncle would have permanent psychological damage owing to the great trauma that he had just experienced.

"Fine," snapped Mr. Weasley. "But I think this is the wrong thing. I'm going to bed. Good night Alastor. See you in a few minutes Molly." With that he headed up the stairs, stopping to yank the curtains over Mrs. Black's still wailing picture.

"Right," Moody said. "You. Dursley. Where does this sister of yours live?"

"Come on you two, bed," Mrs. Weasley sighed, motioning Harry and Ginny to go upstairs. "I am just going to check on your Aunt Harry. You two will be in the same rooms that you were in before," she added before she opened the drawing room door and entered, closing it behind her.

Harry and Ginny just stood on the landing staring at the closed door.

"Well, never a dull moment in your life is there?" Ginny asked Harry, smiling.

"Nope." Harry smiled at her.

"You didn't have any idea that your cousin was a wizard?" Ginny asked.

"Not one," Harry replied. "I mean I heard that sometimes it's not until later in life that some people show their abilities. Look at Neville, what was it he had said. It wasn't until he was eight that he showed any magic. But seventeen? Isn't that a bit late? Wouldn't he have shown something earlier?"

"I don't know. I suppose that if he never had a need to use his powers, he might not have." Ginny said uncertainly. "If his reaction to the idea of magic is anything like is father's, he probably would have pushed that ability deeper inside himself or something too."

"I guess." Harry was thinking about her comment. "But that time we were attacked by Dementors in Little Whinging. I would think that would be a stressful situation, he should have showed something, then, shouldn't he?"

"Against a dementor? The thing that sucks all happy thoughts out of you? The thing that drains a wizard of his powers?" Ginny asked Harry. "I don't think that would be the best thing to test unknown powers on."

"Right," Harry said. He agreed with her, now he thought about it. But why hadn't Dudley seen the Dementors? Knowing his cousin, Harry wouldn't have put it past him to lie about it. But maybe Dudley was in suck shock he hadn't really seen them, or at least hadn't recalled seeing them.

"Bed you two." Mrs. Weasley's head peered around the door.

"OK mum," Ginny said. As the door closed she rolled her eyes. "I guess we should go." They started to walk up the stairs. "Honestly, doesn't she realize that it's the holidays?" Ginny asked grumpily as they reached the second landing, and the door to the room that Harry and Ron shared.

"I mean really, do we really need to be up at the crack of dawn? It's not like we're ten years old," Ginny ranted on. Harry chuckled softly.

"Good night Ginny." Harry opened the door and had taken a step into the room when the most unexpected scene met his eyes. He was so dumbstruck that he couldn't do anything, even move. His sudden cessation of movement caught Ginny by surprise. She peered in from behind him and could barely keep from bursting into fits of laughter.

Ron and Hermione were sitting on the edge of Ron's bed. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and they were kissing passionately.

"When did this happen?" Ginny asked Harry quietly. He shrugged. Surely, this didn't happen during their time at Privet Drive.

"OI. When did this happen?" Ginny called. Ron and Hermione jumped up quickly, looking very embarrassed. Both of their faces were bright red. They didn't say anything. Instead they shuffled their feet, looking anywhere but at each other, or at Harry and Ginny.

"C'mon now, we're waiting." Ginny had a huge grin on her face.

"Butt out Ginny," Ron mumbled, still with his head down.

"Nope, we need details, out with it," Ginny demanded. She had pushed Harry into the room and walked in herself, closing the door behind her.

"Ginny, we really would rather not," Hermione said. "It's not something that we want everyone to know."

"Oh puh-lease." Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's great. We've all been waiting for this to happen for ages."

"What do you mean all?" Ron asked, looking at her.

"Oh, no one really," Ginny replied nonchalantly, "Just pretty much everyone that knows you two. Right, Harry?" Ron and Hermione turned to look at their best friend.

"Yeah, it's true," Harry said.

"You have?" Hermione asked in a surprised voice. "Exactly how long have you suspected this?"

"Since Ron started acting even more like a prat around you," Ginny answered. "That was what, your fourth year?' She turned to Harry for confirmation.

"Yeah, the whole Krum thing," Harry said remembering. "Ron, I seem to recall that you didn't take that very well." His grin grew wider. "A little jealous I think, don't you agree Gin?"

"A lot jealous if I recall correctly," she replied nodding her head.

"Well he was from Durmstrang," Ron said indignantly. "Who knew what he was capable of?"

Harry and Ginny burst into laughter at the look on Ron's face.

"What?" Ron asked, looking completely lost at what was so funny about what he said.

"They're teasing you Ron," said Hermione, who was still highly embarrassed looking, but found Ron's reaction funny too. She was trying hard not to laugh, but was fighting a losing battle as the corners or her mouth threatened to give her away. "Because you were actually quite ridiculous with that whole thing."

"Too right," Ginny agreed, getting back some of her composure. "But so were you. That McClaggen business was not the smartest move."

"What McClaggen business?" Ron asked. Apparently he had not been filled in on Hermione's real reason for taking the inept Quidditch Keeper to Slughorn's Christmas Party.

"It's nothing," Hermione replied, glaring at Ginny.

"Yeah, it was nothing. Really!" Ginny said. Ron didn't seem convinced, but also didn't comment on it.

"What are you two doing in here anyway?" he asked a suspicious note in his voice.

"Mum went to go talk to Harry's aunt, and she said that it was time for us to go to sleep." Ginny explained.

"So you come up here with Harry? What exactly were the two of you planning?"

"Nothing, idiot. We came upstairs together, but I only came in when I saw what you two were up to. If we wanted to do that we wouldn't sneak off and pretend to go to bed. We don't have to hide it from everyone."

"All the Gryffindors know that, don't they?" Hermione said.

"Yes they do," Ginny replied, glancing at Harry. "See, we don't need to hide behind closed doors, do we?" As she said this she put her arm around him.

"Nope," he agreed, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Are you two . . . ?" she didn't finish her question. She didn't need to.

"Er . . . " Ginny looked at Harry.

"No we're not," he said, letting go of her at once and sliding a little farther away.

"Oh." The smile Hermione had on her face faltered. An awkward silence filled the room. Harry didn't dare look up.

The uncomfortable tension in the room might have stretched on for untold amounts of time if a sharp knock on the door didn't break it.

"How many times do I have to tell you it's time for bed?" Mrs. Weasley asked impatiently as she poked her head in the room and saw her daughter there. "Now," she added sharply.

"Yeah, we're going," Ginny said. She looked at Harry one last time. He didn't dare return her gaze. She sighed, getting up and following Hermione out of the room.

"No more talking. Get to sleep," Mrs. Weasley told Ron and Harry before she closed the door.

Harry and Ron got changed without saying anything, or looking at each other. When they were both in their beds and the lights were out Ron spoke.

"What's going on with you and my sister?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, you broke up with her right? Why you did doesn't make sense to me- but it's your decision," he added when Harry made to interrupt him. "Then there are these things between you two. I mean, there was that day at platform nine and three-quarters. And then tonight . . . I mean you two seem so close still, just - I guess what I'm asking is what are you doing to her, sending mixed signals?"

Harry didn't say anything for a while.

"I don't know," he answered finally. "We've talked about this. It's not a good idea for us to be together right now."

"Not working so well though is it?" Ron asked. He meant it as a rhetorical question because next second he had rolled over in his bed and said, "G'night Harry."

"Night." Harry took off his glasses and put them on the night table. Then he lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling. What was he doing to Ginny, behaving like this? The easy answer was to say that he didn't know. But if he really thought about it, he knew he wanted to be with her, but couldn't risk it. She was already going to be enough of a target for Voldemort, should he find out about that little incident on platform nine and three quarters. The ultimate thing would be if there was a way that they could stay together but keep their relationship a secret. Even as he thought it, Harry knew that wouldn't work. Something that Ginny had said the day of Dumbledore's funeral made him believe that she might go for it. But like he had told her that day, Voldemort would find out. Even if they were as careful and discrete as was possible to be the Dark Lord always found out. And Harry's less than stellar ability at Occlumency was no help here.

He punched his pillow into a more comfortable position, hitting it rather harder than usual in frustration. Sometimes it really sucked to be him, he thought bitterly. All he wanted was to have a normal life, and normal relationships, but he couldn't do that because some crazed, almost immortal dark wizard killed his family and wanted to finish the job.

He's not going to though, Harry thought to himself. Those Horcruxes are out there somewhere, and we'll find them and destroy them, and then we'll get him. But where are the Horcruxes though? As this last thought washed over him, he felt that same sense of how impossible this task really was.

How long was it going to take them to find these bits of soul that Voldemort had stashed God knows where? And when they did find them, what were they going to have to endure to destroy them? A picture of Dumbledore's withered hand entered Harry's mind, and he shuddered.

It looked like he was going to have another sleepless night.

Harry had fallen into a light and uneasy sleep when he was jerked suddenly awake by more shrieking.

"What now?" he asked grumpily sitting up and reaching blindly for his glasses. He looked around the room, and found that it was a little lighter than it had been when he had fallen asleep, but not much. Ron didn't appear to be in his bed.

Harry suddenly felt wide awake. Where was Ron, and what was the yelling about this time? Could it be that Ron was in trouble, and it was him yelling for help?

Harry sprinted to the door and threw it open. He stepped into the hall and was almost at the stairs when he knocked into someone.

"Harry slow down," Ginny said, grabbing the banister to stop herself from falling down the stairs.

"Sorry," he said quickly, "What's going on with all the yelling?" As he said the question he realized that the last few words that were dying away were coming from the foul-mouthed portrait of Sirius's dead mother.

"It's the portrait.," Ginny said.

"What set it off this time?" Harry asked, his heart rate starting to return to normal, and the fear being replaced by annoyance.

"Er . . . let's go and sit down," she said taking his arm and leading him back to the room he had just vacated. Harry felt the fear that had just started leaving him return in full measure.

"What's going on?" he asked as they sat down on his bed. His mind was racing. Most of the Weasley's were here at Grimmauld Place so they were probably fine, but Fred, George, Bill and Percy weren't. Could it be something with one of the other Order members? Maybe Moody or –

"Well, its not good news," Ginny said quietly. "The Death Eaters attacked again, and killed –" she stopped and closed her eyes for a minute as if she was gathering the strength to tell him.

"Ginny, just spit it out," Harry snapped. As much as he didn't want to hear about another death, waiting was worse.

"It was your Aunt Marge," Ginny said quietly. Harry stared at her for a minute. He had a fleeting desire to laugh. At least it wasn't someone that he was close to. But it quickly passed and he felt worse. How could he laugh over something like this? It wasn't a humorous situation, regardless of how he had felt about Uncle Vernon's sister.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know too much. Moody had side-along Apparated him to her house and the Death Eaters were just leaving," Ginny explained. "There were three of them apparently, and they were casting the Dark Mark when the pair arrived. They had a duel, Moody and your uncle are a little beat up, but nothing serious. Anyway, he was able to call reinforcements and they were able to overpower the Death Eaters. They've been arrested, but when they went into the house she was dead."

"Did they – uh – did she suffer?" Harry asked, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer.

"I don't know," Ginny confessed. "Moody didn't go into too much detail. Your uncle was pretty distraught though. He was downstairs bawling, that's what set the portrait off," she explained. "I'm so sorry Harry."

Harry could only nod. It was very true that there was no love lost between him and Aunt Marge. Even so, he would never have wished her dead. He knew what it was like to lose family, and now so did uncle Vernon.

"I should go down and see him," Harry said. "To offer condolences."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Ginny spoke quickly. Harry looked at her questioningly. "Mum was going to try and get him to take a calming potion. He's a little frantic."

Harry sensed that there was something that she wasn't telling him. He asked her what it was.

"Nothing," she lied unconvincingly.

"Gin, come on."

"OK, He . . . he kept talking nonsense. He was saying all kinds of irrational things. I don't think we could make out half of what he said –" Harry looked at her when she didn't answer his question. She shifted a little uncomfortably. "OK," she said again. The next phrase she uttered in a quiet voice. "He said this was all your fault."

Harry leaned back against the wall. He felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. His aunt and uncle had always blamed him for everything that went wrong in their lives, he was too used to it to be much affected by their statements. Yet, this assertion by his uncle really got to him. This one was actually true. If he hadn't gone to live with the Dursleys Aunt Marge would still be alive.

"This isn't your fault. Don't you dare think it is," Ginny stated, as she hugged him.

"Of course it is. If I wasn't living with them they wouldn't have got dragged into this whole mess." All previous thoughts of staying away from Ginny were long gone as he pulled her closer to him.

"You didn't ask for this to happen. The fact that Voldemort is crazy doesn't have anything to do with you Harry," Ginny said. "It's sad that your Aunt is dead. Unfortunate, aggravating, scary, and whatever else, but it's not your fault."

Harry didn't see the point in arguing with her.

They stayed there together, embracing each other on Harry's bed for several more minutes. They were both starting to fall asleep when someone cleared their throat from the entrance to the bedroom. Harry's eyes snapped open. There stood Mr. Weasley. Realizing how this must look to her father, Harry let go of Ginny quickly. She just looked disgruntled.

"What dad?" she asked looking at him, not moving from her spot.

"I need to talk to you two," He said. His tone was serious, but his eyes were crinkled and the corners of his mouth were shaking as if he were trying to hide his amusement. "Now please." He added as he headed downstairs, with Harry and Ginny following him. He led them to the basement kitchen. Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, and a very exhausted Moody were sitting at the table. They all looked up when the three new people entered.

"Breakfast?" asked Mrs. Weasley yawning, and getting up.

"Later Molly," Mr. Weasley said as they sat down at the table.

"What is this about dad?" Ginny asked. She looked at Harry. Surely they weren't about to be told off for what her father had just walked in on. If that were the case he could have done it upstairs.

"Molly please sit, you haven't heard this either, and I don't think that you would want to hear this news standing," Mr. Weasley told his wife. The amusement that he had shown a few minutes before was completely gone, and he looked very serious now.

"What's this about Arthur?"

"It's about Harry and Ginny," Lupin said. He too was looking very grave.

"What?" Ginny questioned. She looked at Harry. From the expression on her face it seemed that she was wondering the same thing as he was. Were they actually about to get told off in front of a number of order members because of how they had been found a few minutes ago?

"Your mother told me about the . . er . . . goodbye you shared when you got back from school." Mr. Weasley remarked. Both Harry and Ginny blushed. For a few seconds the amusement was back in Mr. Weasley's expression as he quipped, "Don't worry Harry I'm not going to hurt you. I'll leave that to my sons.

Harry actually started to worry that he was serious before Ginny squeezed his arm as she whispered in his ear, "he's just kidding."

"In all seriousness now, we wanted to talk to the two of you because some very worrisome news has reached our ears," Lupin said.

"What Remus?" asked Mrs. Weasley nervously. "What sort of news could the Order have obtained that would affect Harry and Ginny?" Her eyes widened and contracted as she tried to work out what this could be. Before Lupin had the chance to answer her question she gasped, clearly coming to the worst possible conclusion. "You two haven't - You're not - ?" She didn't seem able to finish her question as she rushed over to her daughter. "Ginny please tell me you're not –"

Ginny stared at her in confusion for a minute, then she seemed to understand what her mother was asking.

"NO, I'm not!" Ginny snapped at her mother blushing furiously. "We've never . . . I mean . . . I've never . . . " her face was almost as red as her hair now. She wouldn't look at any of them.

"Oh thank God," Mrs. Weasley breathed in relief placing a hand over her heart. "Because you're both too young. I mean you're just kids yourself."

Harry groaned audibly. He had just clued into what she was talking about. He was sure he was now as red as Ginny. This was absolutely the last thing that he wanted to be discussed in front of her father and mother.

"Molly, do you think the Order keeps tabs on their sex lives?' Tonks asked. Harry chanced a glance at her and saw that she was shaking with suppressed laughter. "We might keep tabs on him, but we don't watch that close."

"No, of course not," Mrs. Weasley said sheepishly as she regained her seat, "I'm sorry, the last few days have just made me a little tetchy."

"This meeting is about their relationship though." Mr. Weasley was chuckling again. Like Tonks he seemed to find Harry and Ginny's embarrassment highly amusing.

"Yes, we think that Voldemort knows about Ginny, Harry. Actually I take that back. We're certain he knows about her," Lupin was looking at him with a very serious expression as he said these words. In his eyes Harry could see that Lupin had some understanding of how Harry was going to take this unwelcome bit of information.

Wow that was fast, Harry thought to himself. For some reason he had come to believe that he had at least a few months before he had to worry about what Voldemort would know. He could not explain why he had come to this conclusion, but it had been a firm one nonetheless.

"Of course he knows about me," Ginny said as though she thought this conversation was so obvious. "I'm sure that Lucius Malfoy would have told him about the diary," she shuddered at the recollection.

"No, Gin, he knows about us," Harry said quietly, as he rested his face in his hands the full weight of this news starting to sink in. He had feared this very thing, but a small part of him had hoped that by some miracle Voldemort would not learn about Ginny.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"How?" Harry asked. One name popped into his mind – _Snape_. Ginny had said that he knew about them, and when he had left Hogwarts the night he had killed Dumbledore he had surely gone straight to Voldemort. Did he tell him that very night?

"We don't really know," Lupin said. Seeing Harry's reaction he added, "not Snape. We think that it might have been Malfoy, Draco, that is. Voldemort seemed pleased."

"I bet he was," Harry growled through gritted teeth, his face still resting in his hands. How could he have been so stupid as to even think that Voldemort wouldn't find out quickly? He was sure now that it wouldn't matter if they were actually together; Ginny was going to be in a huge amount of danger.

"But we're not together anymore," Ginny said. She looked at Harry again. "Voldemort can't really think that he can use me to get to you?"

"That's exactly what he thinks."

"Really though, don't you think if he found out about us being together he'd know we're not together anymore?"

"And how would he know that? We didn't exactly act like that the last time we were in public," Harry said bitterly. "Damn it. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid."

"Well, we'll just have to deal with it," Ginny stated. She was taking the news that she was in danger very stoically.

"Yes, and the first thing is that we have to stay away from each other," Harry said determinedly.

"And what good's that going to do? You said it yourself, it doesn't matter if we're together or not, Voldemort's not going to leave me be."

"We've been through this already Ginny," Harry moaned exasperatedly. "The Chamber of Secrets was bad enough, and that was just when you were Ron's little sister. I don't even want to think of what ends he would go to, or what he would do to you if we were together."

"Oh don't be stupid Harry," Ginny snapped. "I know that you think that you are doing the right thing here. And I really do appreciate it. But I don't understand why you have to be this way. If he knows about us, the official status of our relationship is going to matter little. Look at your aunt. What kind of relationship did you have with her? Yet, Voldemort still saw fit to murder her. You and I are much closer than you ever were with her. I'm probably safer with you than without."

"She has a fair point Harry," said Tonks. "You are The Boy Who Lived after all. How many times have you come face to face with You-Know-Who and come out of it OK? That's something that no one else –"

"Yeah, but that doesn't do a whole hell of a lot of good to those around me. My parents, Cedric, Dumbledore, Sirius –" he stopped and looked around the room, feeling that sense of guilt again that he didn't have more recollections of his godfather in number twelve Grimmauld Place. " – and now even Aunt Marge. Honestly, I've had enough of the people I love dying. I've made my decision. I'm sorry Ginny but we can't see each other anymore."

Harry ignored the remonstrations of everyone in the room as he stood up and walked out. This was getting to be a habit of his.


	6. 6 Aunt Petunia's Reasoning

CHAPTER SIX: AUNT PETUNIA'S REASONING

After a few hours of tossing and turning Harry was back in the kitchen again. No one else was in there. They were taking advantage of a few extra hours of sleep. They surely needed it after the night that they had just endured, Harry thought. He wished that he could have the same advantage of a restful lie-in. But even when he did manage to get to sleep for a few hours he had unsettling dreams. Some might call them nightmares. He kept reliving the worst moments of his life, the death of his parents, Cedric, Sirius. While far from pleasant he had been dealing with these dreams for years, the troubling part was that he was starting to see things that had not yet occurred. These were the visions that he was most troubled by.

Harry stared down into the cup of coffee that he had made himself as he thought about everything again. He hadn't touched a drop, but the warmth felt nice. It seemed as if his mind was on a loop of some sort. No matter what he started thinking about he always ended up back at the same two thoughts., the destruction of the Horcruxes and Ginny. These two things had become fused in his mind. Harry couldn't explain how this had occurred, even to himself.

The creaking of the door caused Harry to look up. Into the kitchen walked Aunt Petunia. She had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was all blotchy. When she looked at Harry he saw something that he hadn't expected. There was sadness in her eyes that had never been there before. She had brought this predicament on all by herself, lying about what her son truly was. Despite this Harry felt sorry for her. He also felt a strange connection with his aunt. In that moment he actually felt that she was truly a family member.

"Morning," he said quietly. "Sleep well?"

Aunt Petunia snorted, but didn't say anything. She was looking around the kitchen apprehensively. She seemed lost.

"Some coffee?" Harry offered, holding up his cup as an indication of what he was talking about. She debated for a minute and then nodded mutely, sitting down at the table across from Harry. He got up to get the coffee.

"How's Dudley?" he questioned conversationally. "Has he woken up yet?"

"No," Aunt Petunia responded quietly. Her voice carried none of the brisk, snappish tone that Harry had grown accustomed to. "He will be all right though, won't he?" she asked, still in that small voice, looking worriedly at her nephew

"Yeah, the stunning spell doesn't have a lasting effect. Once he wakes up he'll be completely normal. A little disoriented probably." Harry set down the cup in front of his aunt and then reclaimed his own seat. He put his hands around his own cup. It was cold now, he quickly let go and pushed it away.

When his aunt didn't say anything after a few minutes Harry spoke up,

"I'm really sorry about Aunt Marge," he said, staring at the table. He noticed that there was a long burn mark in it, the same one caused by Fred and George two years previous. That seemed ages ago now. It still felt like a different Harry had sat there laughing with Sirius over the twins antics.

"Marge?" she looked blankly at Harry. He stopped looking at the burn mark and directed his gaze to his aunt instead. Did she not know about what had happened? "Yes it was terrible. Vernon is quite beside himself I understand," Aunt Petunia finally stated. Harry noticed a new tear trickle down her cheek. What did she mean by that statement. Had she not seen her husband?

For a moment, Harry wondered if he would be overstepping his bounds by asking this very question. He wasn't in the mood to be yelled at again. But then he started to think about it and he realized that the whole reason things were the way they were was because of Voldemort's stupid need to snuff him. His aunt and uncle weren't talking because they had to be vacated from their home and their son had to be abducted from school due to Harry. Aunt Marge was dead because of him too. He decided that he would chance the possible eruption and try to help, if that was even possible.

"How's he taking the news about Dudley? Have you talked to him since he got back?:

Aunt Petunia's mouth twitched and her face contorted. She hated when he asked questions. But her lips usually pursed when he did dare to do this. That isn't what happened this time. It looked like she was struggling not to cry.

"Not very good. I tried to talk to him when he came back. But he refused to see me. He started chucking things at me when I opened the door," she paused with her eyes closed tight. The recollection was obviously painful for her. She took a deep, shaky breath. She seemed to be trying to gather her strength before she continued. "He . . . he said that he didn't want anything to do with . . . with us . . . anymore." She had to take great gasps of breath to get these words out. "His own son," she added in an undertone.

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this. The experiences he had with his uncle had left no doubt that Uncle Vernon cared about his family, well his wife and son anyway. How many times had he furiously demanded that Harry keep his "abnormality" away from them so that Petunia and Dudley would not be in danger? As infuriating as these incidents had been to Harry, he knew that they were done out of love. These were not the actions of a man that was willing to walk out on his wife and son. Uncle Vernon had just been given a nasty shock and he would come around.

Harry opened his mouth to tell Aunt Petunia that things would be fine once Uncle Vernon had time to get used to the idea that Dudley was a wizard. But would he? If there was one indisputable thing about the Dursleys, it was that they were terrified of anything that messed with their nice and normal lives. Harry knew this was one of the reasons that they so detested having him around the house. His nasty secret threatened their normality. Dudley having the same abilities would be even more of a disgrace to Uncle Vernon. Did he really love his son enough to get used to the idea that Dudley was a wizard? Harry hoped so. He didn't think that his cousin would be able to stand having a father that was revolted at what he was. Harry wouldn't have been able to handle it.

"I think he just needs time," he finally told his aunt. She looked as doubtful as Harry felt, but didn't say anything. They were again quiet for a few minutes. It was Aunt Petunia who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry Harry. For calling you a liar," she said sincerely.

Had he heard right. Was his aunt actually offering an apology? Was she really admitting that she had done something wrong, and that he, Harry, was right?

"There are a lot of things that I regret now," Aunt Petunia continued. Her eyes were downcast and she was speaking in a very weak voice. "I should have told Vernon my suspicions. I realize how wrong I was to try and hide this from him, just as I was wrong to convince him to try and to keep you from going to Hogwarts."

Harry realized his mouth was open. Even if he could have thought of something to say to her he wasn't sure that his mouth would be able to form the words. He didn't need to say anything though because aunt Petunia continued talking.

"Last night was a wake-up call for me. I don't want any more secrets." Again she was speaking more to herself. She wasn't looking at him as she said this. She sighed heavily and looked at Harry. "I am going to be completely honest now and tell you everything."

Tell him everything? What else could she be hiding? Was she going to tell him that she too was a witch? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know any more of her secrets. Maybe she was about to tell him she'd had a secret love affair with Snape. Harry grimaced at the thought.

"Before your mum was born, my parents were very fond of me. They gave me everything. But when she was born it was like they forgot who I was. Everything was for _dear sweet Lily_," she sounded very bitter. "It was like that wherever we went. No one cared about me if my stupid little sister was around. She was the life of the party, the belle of the ball. She got everything she wanted, and everything I wanted too.

"I never got anything I wanted," Aunt Petunia actually whined, Harry half expected her to stomp her foot too. Now he knew where Dudley had inherited this annoying ability. Harry had always thought that Uncle Vernon seemed more the type to whine. He refocused his attention on his aunt as she continued to speak.

"I was the one who spent my childhood pretending to be magical. I was the one that wished and wished that there really was a magical world out there that I could be a part of. I was the one that wanted to be a witch. My parents were furious with me. 'There's no such thing as magic,' they told me. They believed a respectable Evans girl would do what was proper for her. I spent hours and hours learning how to cook and clean, and sew. But Lily, oh no she was allowed to do whatever she wanted. My parents only believed that one of us needed to be respectable I guess.

"And then when she got her letter from Hogwarts, did they scorn her like they had done me? NO. They were proud. They thought that it was the most wonderful thing in the world. They told everyone that they could how their precious little Lily was going to go off to some school and learn to be a witch. They were fine with magic. Anything for their little sweetheart."

She stopped, breathing hard. Each of her sentences had been punctuated with a furious snort.

"Surely that's a bit of an overstatement," Harry said. He didn't realize that he had even voiced this thought out loud.

"Don't interrupt me," Aunt Petunia barked shrilly.

Harry leaned back in his chair closing his eyes. He was starting to feel a little angry himself. How dare she talk about his mother like this! Everyone said that Lily Evans had been a vivacious and kind girl. Her sister was just jealous because she wasn't as talented, pretty or well-liked.

"She went off to that freaky school and I was _permitted _to go to the local comprehensive. Lily would write to me every so often, _when she could find the time,_ bragging about how popular she was and how good she was doing in school. In later years she would go on about how many boys liked her, and how she had her pick of the lot. She never, not once, asked about how I was doing.

"When I was old enough to drive though she wanted to spend all her time with me. She wanted me to drive her all over the country. It didn't matter if I had other plans, she would just whine to mum and dad and they would make me take her. She took me around to all of her friends. She would tell them that I was her chauffeur. That's really all that I was.

"But when she started going out with your dad, suddenly I wasn't even good enough for that. She stopped even writing to me."

"You're lying," Harry had jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. It clattered to the floor with a loud BANG. He couldn't believe that he had listened to as much of this rubbish as he had. His mum was a good person; she wasn't someone that would just abandon her sister like that. "You're just jealous because she got what you didn't," he nearly shouted.

"Harry what's going on?" Lupin asked coming into the kitchen. He looked from Harry to his aunt. "Petunia what were you telling him?"

"I was telling him about his mother Remus," Aunt Petunia said, glancing at Lupin.

Harry stared at the pair of them in disbelief. Since when were his aunt and one of his father's best friends on a first name basis? He supposed they could have been introduced the previous evening. That was probable. But that didn't explain why they seemed to be so familiar with each other. Even in the short time that Lupin had been in the room Harry could tell that there was some history.

"How do you two know each other?" he asked.

"When your mum and dad were dating, we tended to spend a lot of time at your mum's house. That was the only way we could spend any time with him." Lupin grinned broadly. "He had it bad for Lily. You saw a little of that yourself."

Despite the anger that he was still feeling Harry couldn't help but smile, When he did this some of his anger dissipated. He recalled the scene that he had witnessed in the pensieve. That had been the only time that he had ever seen his parents together. His father had been obviously smitten, even then.

Harry didn't much like to think about that memory he had seen during his last ever Occlumency lesson. It made him feel a little sympathetic towards Snape, and just now that was the last feeling he wanted to have.

"Why were you shouting though Harry?"

"He tends to do that when confronted with the truth," Aunt Petunia said.

"She was telling lies about my mum.' Harry burst out furiously as the happy bubble that had been the memories of his parents deflated. "She was saying that mum was spoiled and got everything that she wanted, and that she didn't care about her own sister."

Lupin's jaw hardened as he turned and said angrily, "How could you tell him lies about Lily, your own sister. She adored you. She wanted nothing more than to spend all the time in the world with you. But whenever she asked, you were always too busy, or didn't want to come. "

"What? come and watch her make out with her boyfriend?' Aunt Petunia sounded revolted at the idea. "She didn't need me to come with her for that. You and Sirius and Peter were enough of a fan club." She had to have been around them a lot to still be able to spout of the Marauder's names so quickly, Harry thought.

"It wasn't like that. We would have to listen to how worried she was about the state of her relationship with you. She loved you and it pained her terribly that the two of you weren't closer. She would bring you to school to show you off to all of her friends. When she got a letter from you she would have to bore us all stupid with how proud she was of you."

"Lies. Harry is old enough to know the truth about his sainted mother. She was a selfish little girl who could not stand it when anyone else was happy."

"If you're talking about what she told you about –" Lupin started.

"That's exactly what I am talking about," Aunt Petunia snapped, shooting a warning glance at Lupin. "She seemed almost gleeful when she told me what he was like."

"It wasn't like that," Lupin said again, frustration evident in his voice. "She just wanted to make sure that you were safe and happy. That was always her first concern."

"Who are you guys talking about?" Harry asked curiously. He was sure they weren't talking about Uncle Vernon. Who could Aunt Petunia have been involved with before Uncle Vernon that his mother would not have liked. From all he knew about Lily Evans-Potter, she had been very understanding of the plight of others.

"Don't ask questions," Aunt Petunia snapped, sounding much more like her normal self.

"Why do you have such a problem with me asking questions?' Harry shot at her. "What exactly is it that you're hiding?"

"Nothing. You are just too nosy. You're like her," Petunia snapped at her nephew again.

"Fine." Harry had enough of this story anyways.

Still feeling very angry Harry stomped up the stairs and ended up in the drawing room with the Black family tree again. Dudley wasn't there anymore. He had either been moved or had woken up and left. Harry sat down and started at the lineage of Sirius's family. How dare his aunt talk about his mother like that! Everyone that he had talked to that had known his parents had said that they were wonderful, generous and caring people, his aunt's was the only tale that didn't tally. There was no way that his mother was that selfish, spoiled person. If she had been would she really have given up her life to save her son? Harry didn't think so.

He lay back on the old couch. he closed his tired and itching eyes. Harry hadn't had a proper night's sleep since Dumbledore had died. It was starting to get to him. Harry had dark circles under his eyes, and he was starting to get very short tempered with everyone. he desperately needed sleep. If only those damned thoughts about Horcruxes and Ginny would abate.

A thick golden locket was dangling before Harry's eyes like a pendulum. When he tried to reach for it, the locket evaded his hand. "Come on,' he said frustrated. He took another swipe and missed again. Catching the snitch wasn't this hard. The most infuriating thing about not being able to catch this thing was that it was within his grasp. It was so close but still he couldn't get his hands on it.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice called from far away. Her face swam into his vision. "Do you need help?

"Yes," he said taking another unsuccessful swipe at the locket. "I don't know why I can't catch this stupid thing, " he screamed in frustration.

"Its love Harry. That's your power." Ginny was smiling at him. That's what Dumbledore had said, but how did that fit here? How did that have anything to do with the fact that he couldn't grab – this – stupid – locket/ With each word that he thought he made more failed attempts to snatch the pendant.

"Ginny, what does that mean?" He asked her. She didn't say anything, but just smiled. She was only a foot from him, the locket hanging between them. They were so close that he could see each of the freckles on her face, the ones that she hated but he thought were so cute.

Harry forgot about the locket and reached up to touch her face. He couldn't do it. His hand met an invisible barrier. This was very like the one that he and Dumbledore had encountered in the cave. Harry pressed his fingers harder against the barrier, but all they did was bend backwards.

The smile that was on Ginny's face faltered, and a sudden fearful look came into her eyes. Harry tried harder to get through that barrier, but had as much success as before.

"Harry, help me," Ginny implored quietly, and in a scared voice.

"I'm trying,' Harry said, frantically trying to find a way to get through the invisible force.

"HARRY, HELP ME PLEASE!" Ginny screamed pleadingly. Her face was white and she was wearing an expression of abject horror. "PLEASE, DON'T LET HIM TAKE ME," she shrieked.

"I WON'T," Harry yelled. But at that moment he couldn't move. He had been paralyzed, and could only watch as Ginny was pulled away, still screaming for him to help her. Harry fought against whatever force was holding him still, and he started to feel it lifting. He ran to Ginny. He had almost reached her when there was blinding flash of green light. He got to her just in time to catch her from hitting the ground.

But it was too late. Her head fell backwards, and Harry could see her eyes. They were empty, just like Cedric's had been.

A mirthless laugh filled Harry's ears and then a high-pitched voice spoke.

"You won't win Harry." The laughter continued.

Harry was screaming as loud as he could at Voldemort, but it was in vain. His screams seemed to die in his mouth. He gave that up and started to shake the lifeless form of Ginny that he still held in his arms.

"Come on Gin," he said brushing a strand of hair out of her face. When she didn't respond he shook her harder, starting to feel his own tears trickling down . "Ginny, you're strong, fight him." He started to repeat over and over, shaking her harder still so that her head rocked back and forth.

He looked into those empty eyes again and reality finally set in. Ginny was gone. She was dead.

"NO!" Harry screamed so loudly that it felt as though his throat might have exploded. He continued to shake Ginny knowing that it was no use. . . .

As though from a great distance, Harry heard someone calling his name. He opened his eyes and registered two things at once. His scar was throbbing painfully, and everything was blurry. Someone had removed his glasses.

A mass of red swam into his sight, and he caught a flowery scent that meant it could only be one person hovering above him.

"Gin?" he asked just to be sure.

"Yeah Harry it's me," she responded.

He sat up quickly and pulled her into his arms. He hugged her so tight that she jokingly said, "Harry, I need to breath please."

He let up a little but still didn't let her go. The dream (or whatever it had been) was still vivid in his mind. He couldn't forget the look of those empty eyes. He pulled away a little so that he could look at her. He had to make sure that he had just been imagining it. When her vivacious chocolate brown eyes stared back at him he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her close again.

There was no way that he could ever let her go. The dream that he had just had was proof enough. All he cared about now was that she was here and safe with him. Ginny wasn't dead.

"What's this about?" Ginny asked, not making any move to let go of him, for which Harry was grateful.

"Nothing. I'm just glad that you're here," he replied stroking her hair. He was feeling much better already.

"I'm always here," Ginny quipped, trying to lighten the mood. She pulled back a little so that they could look at each other again. "I'm not going anywhere," she said very seriously this time, and with a determined look in her eyes. She wiped away two tears that were lingering on Harry's face. With anyone else Harry would have felt embarrassed to be caught crying, but with Ginny he didn't. He just felt comforted.

"Ginny, I told you not to wake him up," Mrs. Weasley admonished as she walked into the room, carrying what looked like a plate of sandwiches.

"I didn't," Ginny said. "Harry was - " she stopped when she felt him cringe. He didn't want the others to know that he was having nightmares again. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione would fret incessantly, Tonks would probably start asking him if he was a seer again, and Ron and the others might start avoiding him like they had done after the attack on Mr. Weasley.

"He woke up on his own," Ginny said, squeezing Harry's hand. He squeezed it back in thanks.

"Oh, well now you're up Harry, you should have something to eat. Your aunt tells me that you didn't have breakfast."

"Yeah that's right," Harry said as he put on his glasses, which Ginny had just handed him.

"Well it's almost lunch time, so I brought these instead. I hope you don't mind."

"That's great Mrs. Weasley, thanks." Harry replied.

"Its no trouble dear," she responded. "I have a few things to take care of. Enjoy those sandwiches." With that she exited the room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone once more. They each took a sandwich and chewed in silence. Right now, this was exactly what Harry wanted. He just wanted to be close to Ginny, to make sure that she was still safe. He didn't feel like answering questions.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked when they had finished eating and had washed their sandwiches down with the pumpkin juice that Mrs. Weasley had also brought. "What were you dreaming about?"

Harry debated about not telling her, but knew she wouldn't drop it until he gave in so he Briefly told her what he had dreamt, leaving out the locket. The dream wouldn't have been bad alone. What upset Harry was that it could become reality.

"It's going to be OK, that's not going to happen," Ginny said certainly

"You can't know that," Harry snapped. He felt bad immediately. He hadn't meant to be short with Ginny.

"No I can't, but I believe it anyways," Ginny said. She now had the same look in her eyes that she had worn back in the Gryffindor common room when she had come running at Harry. The first time they had kissed. There was no doubt that she was a fighter and if Harry's fear became reality she wouldn't go easily.

Harry smiled at her. How could he have ever tried to stay away? The harder he tried to avoid her the more she was around. Was fate trying to tell Harry something? He had his reservations and reasons even now for not being with Ginny, but the other little voice inside his mind was talking louder and making a more sound argument. He cleared his throat, to say what he had to say.

"Ginny, I . . . I've been thinking since last night and –" he stopped. He wasn't really sure exactly how he wanted to phrase this. He knew what he wanted to say. But he had been trying to drill the same things into her head for weeks now. What would she think when he completely reversed his position? Would she think he had gone mad? Or worse, would she say no?

Ginny sat patiently while he was trying to find the words. When the silence continued she was the one that spoke up.

"Are you trying to say that you have changed your mind about us?" There was a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Well, sort of," Harry admitted.

"What does that mean, sort of?"

"Well I guess I realize what an idiot I've been thinking that Voldemort wouldn't find out about us." Harry was speaking slowly, to make sure that he used the right words. "And I guess I've been stupid to think that I could keep you safe by breaking up with you."

Ginny smiled as she said, "Its about time. I've been saying that for weeks."

"I don't think that we should advertise the fact that we are together. But I've had enough of Voldemort controlling my life. We're happy together and that's a good thing." Ginny was positively beaming now. And, Harry thought defiantly, if Voldemort were to find out he would not be happy. A Voldemort that was pissed off because he, Harry, was so happy wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But Harry would still rather the Dark Lord did not glean any more information about his relationship with Ginny.

"I'm so glad that you finally decided to come to your senses," Ginny giggled as she cuddled up to Harry.

"So you'll take me back?" Harry asked playfully.

"Oh no of course not," Ginny mocked as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"That's what I thought." Harry leaned back on the couch again, keeping his arms around Ginny, and they drifted off to sleep together.

Untold hours later, Harry woke up, feeling properly rested for the first time in three weeks. Ginny was still there. She was resting her head on his shoulder, playing with her hair. Harry shifted a little so that he could look down at her.

"Well, good afternoon sleeping beauty," she teased kissing him. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

"How long have you been awake?" He asked, once again hugging her close to him. He hadn't had any bad dreams during this nap, but the last one he had still weighed on his mind, and he needed to reassure himself that Ginny was indeed by him, and quite alive.

"I dunno, a while. I didn't want to move because you looked like you needed sleep, and I was scared I would wake you."

"Thanks." He kissed her on the top of her head.

Ginny lifted her head and looked at the door.

"Your aunt and cousin came in a couple times while you were sleeping. I think that she wants to talk to you again." Harry felt her tense up as she said these words. "They're here now," she whispered to him. "Did you want me to tell them to get lost?"

"No." Harry sat up. He didn't know what his aunt wanted to tell him this time. He was sure that it was going to be something else nasty about his mother, or perhaps she had some horrible tales to tell about his father. The thought caused his blood to boil. But it was better to have her say what she wanted to say and then to move on with it.

"What do you want now?" he asked warily.

"Can we sit down?" Aunt Petunia sounded uncertain and a little scared. Her snappish manner was gone again. Harry waved his hand carelessly to the room at large, indicating that she could sit wherever she liked.

Aunt Petunia came to sit across from Harry, Dudley closely following her. His cousin kept shooting covetous looks at Ginny. Harry was annoyed at this and put an arm around her waist, pulling her a bit closer. He wasn't looking at Ginny but he felt her tense again and she moved a little closer herself, Harry's hand in her own.

"So?" Harry asked his Aunt when she didn't say anything. "What do you want now? If you've come to tell me any more lies about my mother or father you can save your breath."

"No – no I don't want to do that," she said quietly. She closed her eyes, as though praying for the strength to say whatever it was that she had come to say. "I just wanted to apologize for this morning. You were right. I was jealous of my sister." She did actually look ashamed and embarrassed.

"She was everything I wasn't. She was pretty, and popular, and smart, and loving, and – and a witch. I could never compete with her, even in the eyes of our parents.

"She adored your dad. I think that she had a crush on him from when they first met. She would never say that of course, because she didn't want to inflate his already large head," Aunt Petunia smiled. Shocked disbelief was the only feeling that Harry could muster. His aunt was actually talking civil to him about his mother and father. Was this even humanly possible?

"When they finally started dating it was clear to everyone that they belonged with each other. They were disgustingly sweet," Aunt Petunia again smiled at the memory. "And instead of being a good sister, I was jealous." She stopped and glanced at Harry, that same look of shame again on her face. Harry was gazing at his aunt as though he had never seen her before. This could not really be the same aunt that had forced him to live in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years of his life!

"I was never attracted to your father. That mop of messy black hair –" Aunt Petunia cringed at the thought of such disorder, and gazed at Harry's hair for a moment, before she went on. Ginny, seeing this reaction ran her fingers through it . Harry shivered pleasantly.

"But they were the fairy tale couple. The ones that are so deep in love that they don't see anyone else in the room. They started planning the wedding of every girl's dreams. Again I was envious. Here was my little sister getting another thing that I had never got. My wedding was very no-frills. We were married by a justice-of-the-peace in my parent's backyard. I love my husband," Aunt Petunia said fiercely, as though Harry had been about to contradict her. "But our relationship was never full of passion like theirs was. I wanted that.

"They didn't get their fancy wedding though. The war with Voldemort was getting worse, and your mother and father were too busy to plan it. So a few friends of theirs threw together something small. I didn't go, but I saw pictures, and they looked just as happy with the tiny wedding.

"Things only got worse after they got married. I only saw them once after that. I'm sure that they were just as happy though. Your mum would write periodically. She never said much, just that they were working in some secret group to try and stop Voldemort and his followers from getting more powerful. Your mum and dad never were ones to sit idly by and let things go on. If there was something that they didn't like they would try and change it. You are like that too, Harry. At least it seems like you are, from what I've heard of your antics from Dumbledore."

"Exactly how much contact did you have with Dumbledore?' Harry asked. He knew about a few instances where Dumbledore had written letters to the Dursleys, but from the way his aunt was talking it seemed almost as if they had kept up a regular correspondence.

"Oh every so often," Aunt Petunia said vaguely. "Anyway, after your parents got married your mum and I didn't talk much. It was better that way. Your uncle and I were able to settle into our lives, and everything seemed normal. I was actually happy for the first time in my life. I had someone that loved me more than my dratted sister. I wanted to keep it that way, so I never invited her round for tea. I didn't want to chance my husband falling under the Lily curse," Aunt Petunia spat the last two words, pursing her lips, looking bitter.

"Things would have been fine if she hadn't got herself killed."

"She didn't do it on purpose," Harry said angrily.

"No, but she did make the choice. I wouldn't have expected any different. But we got landed with you," Aunt Petunia looked at Harry, a familiar expression of contempt on her face. Then she sneered. "My _dear _sister's baby. It would have been quite bad enough to have you there, as I was sure that you would be magical. My husband and I detest magic," she explained unnecessarily to Ginny. "But the worst was not yet over. Within a few days I learned that you had somehow mysteriously defeated Voldemort, and were now famous and considered by the wizarding world to be a hero. More than once I received those disgusting owls asking for news of you." Her teeth were gritted. This was an unpleasant memory for her. "I refused of course. Dumbledore told me too, and I quite willingly agreed. I may not have been able to change the way I was treated as compared to my sister. But I could control the way my son was treated compared to 'the boy who lived-'" another sneer "- and I certainly was not going to let you overshadow my precious baby."

Aunt Petunia seemed to have finished her story. She wasn't looking at Harry, but she was gazing at Dudley lovingly.

"That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard," Ginny spoke up. "You treated Harry like rubbish because you were jealous of your sister when you were a kid. You really need to grow up lady."

"I'm not proud of it." Aunt Petunia had her head down now, and again she really did look like she was remorseful. Harry marveled at how quickly she could go from feeling contempt to feeling shame "It really was a disgusting and petty thing to do. I would probably change it if I could. But Harry seems to have turned out all right anyway."

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!" Ginny jumped to her feet and was glowering at Aunt Petunia. "How can you just sweep this under the rug as if you did nothing wrong, and say its OK because he seems normal?" She looked at Harry. "And how can you just sit there, and not get upset at this woman?"

"Gin, getting mad isn't going to change anything," Harry said truthfully. He meant what he said, but he was still angry about the lies his aunt had told about his mother that morning. "And I did OK for myself I think."

Ginny sat down again, but her face was still red with anger and she was still fuming. Harry took her hand in his, hoping that it would both calm her and restrain her from leaping at Aunt Petunia if need be.

"Harry, I know that words can't make up for the treatment that we made you endure, but that's all I can offer," Aunt Petunia said.

Something in her tone made Harry believe that perhaps she was not being as genuine in her apologies as she was trying to make out. He nodded that he accepted her apology because he wanted to know what her true motivation for this little speech was.

"AARRGGHH," Ginny growled in frustration. Harry silenced her with a look. He had tried to convey to her that there was something more and he wanted to know what it was. She seemed to have understood because she flopped back on the couch and didn't make another sound. When Aunt Petunia didn't appear forthcoming, Harry attempted to elicit what she wanted. When more time had passed in silence he decided to be blunt.

"What else did you want?" Another question. Aunt Petunia pursed her lips for a second, before she forced them into a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Well there is one thing . . . " she looked at Dudley.

Dudley had not noticed his mother's glances at him at all. His piggy little eyes were scanning the room and periodically flicking from Harry to Ginny. He would get this greedy expression every time he looked at her. Harry's annoyance was almost at breaking point. He was about three seconds away from punching Dudley in the face.

"Now that it's . . . out in the open about Dudley's condit – um – ability, I think that maybe it would be useful if he were trained up a bit. You know – er – just in case he needs to defend himself or something."

The absurdity of this conversation finally got to Harry and he burst out into fits of laughter. In the course of one twenty-four hour period his world had been turned upside down. He had gone from living in the most Muggle environment around with people who hated everything magical to a house that was completely magical, bringing those same people with him. His cousin, who would run squealing, terrified, to his mother if Harry said such nonsense words as "Jiggery Pokery," was a wizard. His aunt, who one day ago couldn't say owls, and who had colluded with his uncle to keep him from going to Hogwarts, was now telling him that she wanted her son to learn magic. If he hadn't otherwise felt completely normal, Harry would have been sure he had gone mad.

"What's so funny?' Dudley asked, looking at Harry, who was still laughing raucously.

"Yeah that's what we'd like to know?" Ron asked entering the room, followed closely by Hermione. They were both looking at Harry with concern in their eyes. They seemed to be worrying that he _had_ gone mad.

"The – funniest – most – ludicrous – joke," Harry gasped, trying to stop himself from laughing. "She wants him -" he pointed from his aunt to his cousin, " - to learn magic."

"Ha, good one Harry," Ron said.

"Its not a joke Ron," Ginny stated. "She really just told us that she wants him to learn defense."

Ginny, Ron and Hermione were all looking at Harry seriously now. As his last bits of laughter died away, Harry couldn't see the humor in it anymore either. Dudley was one of the worst students that he ever met. The great dolt never read anything, something that would not go over well when it came to magic. And then there was the fact that Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't as cut and dry as some would think. There were other spells that could be useful against an enemy that you would just never learn in that class. Come to think of it, did they even offer a Defense Against the Dark Arts class for people who weren't enrolled at Hogwarts?

"Uh – it's a good idea in theory," Harry stated, "but I don't think they offer a class that you could take to learn that sort of thing. That is, unless you are enrolled at Hogwarts. And I think Dudley might be a little old for that."

"Oh no, I thought that it could be more of an independent study program," Aunt Petunia said getting quieter with each word until she could barely be heard. "I thought that since we're stuck here maybe . . ." she looked around the room at each of the teenagers. She surely wasn't suggesting what he thought she was.

"What? One of us teach him?" Ron asked the question that Harry had been thinking. He looked at Harry in alarm.

"Yes, exactly," Aunt Petunia said, and she looked right at Harry.

"I don't think that Hermione would really be up to that," Harry thought out loud. If there were anyone that he would want to learn from it would be the brightest witch of his year. He was sure that she wouldn't be able to stand for Dudley's laziness though.

"Oh, no, she's not talking about me," Hermione said also looking at Harry.

"Why would Hermione teach him, when you're the best here at Defense?" Ginny asked Harry.

"What? Me teach Dudley?" Harry asked stupidly. That would be a very bad idea. "No," he said firmly. No, there was absolutely no way that he would be able to teach Dudley magic without killing him.


	7. 7 A Black's Family Secret

CHAPTER SEVEN: A BLACK'S FAMILY SECRET

A week after the conversation with Aunt Petunia Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Dudley were to be found in the room that used to belong to the Hippogriff, Buckbeak. It had been a long week. The last seven days couldn't have been longer if Harry had had to spend them at Privet Drive, completely cut off from all of his friends and the wizarding world.

The day after Aunt Petunia made her request they journeyed to Diagon Alley to get Dudley a wand. As Mr. Ollivander had disappeared they couldn't buy the wand there, so they bought Dudley a wand in a shop called Wilhelmina's Wands.

Harry was revolted when they walked into the shop, which was near Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. This place was almost completely pink and reminded Harry horribly of Madam Puddifoot's tea shop in Hogsmeade. The witch that helped them select the wand seemed familiar to Harry too.

"D'you happen to be related to Madam Puddifoot, the woman that runs the tea shop in Hogsmeade?" Ginny asked.

"Oh yes, she's m'sister," the witch replied. She looked from Ginny to Harry. When she noticed his scar a small smile appeared on her face. "And she told me _you've_ been in m'boy. Was it perhaps with this charming young lady?"

"Er . . . no," Harry said, looking anywhere but at Ginny. He wished she hadn't asked the witch about her sister. The one and only time he had ever been into Madam Puddifoot's had been with Cho. She had made a huge scene and then stormed out. Harry didn't really want to think about that unqualified disaster.

"Oh. No of course not. You're the Weasley girl," Ginny blanched at being addressed as such by a complete stranger. "I daresay you've been in the Puddifoot shop a time or two yourself, have you not?" She had a wide, knowing smile on her face.

"Mmmm," Ginny said noncommittally. Both she and Harry were glad when the witch went back to helping Dudley select his wand.

"Exactly how many times have you been in there?" Harry asked, not really wanting to know the answer. He knew all too well what went on in that teashop. The thought of Ginny being there with someone other than himself was repugnant.

"A few," Ginny confessed vaguely.

"A few too many I'd say," Harry said under his breath. Unfortunately Ginny heard him.

"Excuse me? You're starting to sound like Ron now. Do I need to remind you that you have also been there?"

They were irritable and barely spoke to each other for the rest of the day.

Dudley got an oak and dragon heartstring wand. While in the shop he had spotted a holster that you attach to a belt, like Muggles use for mobile phones. He demanded that his mother buy it for him, which she did. Dudley had then proceeded to strut about Grimmauld Place and would draw it out, like he was unsheathing a sword, and brandish his wand at anyone that came within his field of vision. This lasted two days. After the two hundred and thirtieth time he did this (Ginny was apparently keeping count) Hermione became so annoyed that she vanished the holster and took Dudley's wand away. She would thereafter only allow him to have it when they were trying to teach him something.

These lessons were going as horribly as Harry had thought they would. Dudley, used to getting his own way, didn't listen to anything they said at all, especially if it came from Harry. This was annoying Harry to no end. He already had a short fuse because whenever he was out of earshot (and sometimes even when he was not) Dudley had developed the disgusting habit of flirting with Ginny.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE DUDLEY!" Harry roared as his cousin. They were on day five of trying to teach him the most basic spell, _Wingardium Leviosa. _Not only was Dudley saying the incantation completely wrong (he was so lazy he was trying to shorten it, despite numerous explanations that magic doesn't work that way) he was also either just swishing or just flicking his wand. He couldn't seem to get it through his fat head that you had to do both. "IT'S NOT THAT HARD."

"Oh yeah, you do it then," Dudley whined. Harry had already showed him at least a dozen times. How did he get roped into these stupid situations? Harry ranted to himself.

"Fine," he said. He pointed his wand at Dudley and said "Wingardium Leviosa." Dudley rose into the air. His head was brushing the ceiling.

"OK, OK, I get it," Dudley said.

"Do you really?" Harry asked irritably.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Dudley whined again. "Can you put me down now?" Harry lowered him to a safe level and then dropped his wand. Dudley fell to the floor with a resounding CRASH.

"This lesson is over," Harry said shortly and he stormed from the room.

He had been even more short-tempered over the last twenty-four hours because his cousin kept barging into whatever room he was in, cutting into the already sparse time Harry and Ginny had alone together.

Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had made an announcement at breakfast the previous morning. They were going to be returning to the Burrow two days later to prepare for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Ginny was going to return with them. Neither she nor Harry was happy with this. Quite apart from the fact that Harry wouldn't see her for three weeks there was the obvious danger of her being accessible to Voldemort again. At least at Grimmauld Place he couldn't get in. The only way that Ginny was in any danger here was if Snape marched in and took her.

The option of letting Ginny stay at Grimmauld Place had been considered briefly, but when Mrs. Weasley found out that she and Harry were back together she absolutely forbid it.

"She just doesn't trust us at all," Ginny had complained to Harry after her mother's refusal. They wouldn't be alone in the house. Lupin was still staying there, as was Tonks, but as they were often gone doing mysterious work for the order and the ministry they could hardly supervise the comings and goings of five teenagers.

Aunt Petunia might have been able to watch after them, but she would have been useless as a disciplinarian because the only one that listened to her was Dudley, and even that was unusual. She didn't dare try and yell at Ron or Hermione. She seemed like she was trying to be nice to Harry, probably so that he wouldn't stop teaching her idiotic son to defend himself, and she seemed terrified of Ginny. This amused the youngest Weasley immensely.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were on speaking terms again, but only just. They could actually sit and have breakfast together without a shouting match that set off Mrs. Black's portrait. Uncle Vernon was very civil with Dudley too. He was walking on eggshells around the boy. It was quite obvious that he was now scared of his son. He treated Dudley as if he were a bomb that might go off at any moment.

Harry was surprised at how well Dudley was taking the news that he was a wizard. Before this bizarre turn of events had Harry been asked how Dudley would take the news he would have said with absolute confidence that Dudley would go mad. But, Dudley actually seemed happy. It was really queer this whole situation. Harry was certainly no stranger to unusual situations. They seemed to be attracted to him as though by some magnetic force, but this was absurd.

Harry woke up the next morning, and for a minute he couldn't understand why he felt so terrible. Then his consciousness seemed to come alive and he remembered that the Weasleys were going back to the Burrow today. Ginny was leaving the relative safety of Grimmauld Place and going to a much more welcoming, but more wide open location. She was going to really be in danger now and they weren't going to be together.

Harry's stomach churned at this thought. That dream, or vision, or whatever it was that he had about Ginny and that locket had been weighing heavily on him. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that it had been a premonition of sorts. Leaving out details Harry mentioned this to Ron and Hermione. She scoffed and mentioned again how it seemed like Divination, which was "the most imprecise branch of magic." Harry, despite being so worried had to smile. Apparently Hermione's dislike for the subject had increased because it used to be "a wooly discipline." Ron, seemed afraid and actually commented about how it might be like fifth year when Harry could feel what Voldemort was feeling. These reactions made Harry even more sure that not revealing specifics was a good thing.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lupin were standing in the entrance hall with the four Weasleys that were going to be returning to the Burrow momentarily. Mrs. Weasley was checking and rechecking that they had packed everything.

"Molly if you've left anything we'll send it to you." Lupin assured her. "Besides we will be seeing you in just a few weeks." At this Mrs. Weasley let out a gasp.

"Oh dear me, I can't believe this wedding is so soon. We're never going to be able to get everything done."

After several assurances, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were able to calm down Mrs. Weasley and the four red heads made to leave.

"Just hang on," Ginny said. She ran over to give Harry another hug. "See you soon."

"Yeah, just don't forget what I told you," Harry replied, speaking into her hair. He had been spending the last forty-eight hours drilling the need to be cautious into her head.

"I won't," she gave him a placating smile.

"I'm serious," Harry told her, upset that she wasn't taking him seriously. "I want you to be safe." He had grabbed her wrist and was holding it tight, hoping that maybe she would realize how important it was for her to be cautious.

"I'll be careful Harry, I promise." Ginny tried to wrench her wrist out of Harry's grasp. "But please let go of my hand, you're hurting me."

"Sorry," Harry let go and stepped away from her.

"Little hard there Harry," Ginny grimaced, rubbing her wrist.

"Time to go," Mr. Weasley said.

The four Weasleys gathered at the door again. They were waiting for the all clear from Tonks before they stepped out. It came all too soon for Harry. In what seemed like a nanosecond they had stepped outside and Disapparate.

Harry watched as Lupin relocked the door by magic.

"Well at least now we can get some real research done," Hermione supplied brightly.

"Great," Harry said dully. Ron looked about as excited as he felt.

Ever since Harry, Ron and Hermione had arrived at Grimmauld Place they had been spending their free time doing more research on the Horcruxes. It had been hard trying to do it when Ginny was there, because she couldn't know about them.

Since having that nightmare Harry had felt more determined than ever to find the Horcruxes and destroy them. Even so, that burning need wasn't as strong as his need to stay close to Ginny and make sure that she was safe. She was far from a damsel in distress, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she needed to be protected.

The trio spent the rest of the day in the gloomy library at Grimmauld Place, buried behind large and ancient books, looking for anything that would aid them in destroying a bit of soul.

By late that evening they were bleary-eyed, and exhausted, but none the wiser.

"This is completely useless," Harry yelled in frustration slamming a large book shut, and causing clouds of dust to take to the air. "If the answer was in a book we'd've come across it by now. We've spent half our lives searching through obscure books at the Hogwarts library."

He had been particularly irritable today, especially because Ron and Hermione were being overly affectionate. Harry knew they weren't doing it to annoy him, but they were having that effect nonetheless. Why did they have to choose today, of all days, to be so lovey-dovey?

"I don't think so," Hermione said, rubbing her eyes, which were bloodshot. "I mean there was nothing in any of the books at Hogwarts about Horcruxes was there? No, this is dark magic at it's worst. We would never have found information on how to destroy a Horcrux at Hogwarts. We'd be more likely to find it here." She reached for another book. "I don't think that we should get discouraged yet, because its only been a few weeks. I'm sure it took Dumbledore a long time to find something useful too."

"Hermione, can't we give this up for tonight, we're all exhausted," Ron yawned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "I can't even read anymore."

"Oh, but –" Hermione started.

"No, he's right. We're not going to find anything here tonight," Harry agreed. Hermione looked for a moment as if she wanted to argue, but as she too stifled a yawn she shrugged and got up.

"OK, but we need to get started straight away tomorrow." She and Ron started to walk to the door of the library. "Are you coming Harry?"

"Yeah, in a bit," Harry said. The three friends said their goodnights and then Ron and Hermione left.

Harry leaned back in his chair, staring at the blue fire Hermione had conjured hours earlier. It really had been a long and tiring day. He was feeling that same sense of despair again that he had felt so often since Dumbledore's death. He, Ron and Hermione had now been looking for weeks and they weren't even half a step closer to discovering where any of the Horcruxes were, or how to destroy them. What if they never found out anything that would help them, and Voldemort went on torturing and murdering forever?

Harry extinguished the fire and left the room. He didn't feel like going to sleep just yet. He thought that he might go down to the kitchen to get something to eat but he ended up, once again, in the room with the Black family tree. Since coming to Grimmauld Place he had been spending a lot of time here. Why that was Harry didn't even know. It wasn't as if this was the most inviting of rooms. Yet, somehow Harry felt drawn to it.

He sat down and stared at the Black family tree again. Sirius had hated that thing. Harry remembered all too well the look of disdain that Sirius had given the tapestry the first time that they had come in to clean this room. Attempts to remove the tapestry had been as successful as attempts to remove the portrait of Mrs. Black that hung in the hallway. Sirius had been right. Permanent-sticking charms had been used on both.

Harry wished that Sirius was here right now. True, he wouldn't be able to tell his godfather anything about the Horcruxes, but it would be nice to at least have someone that he could talk to. Ron, Hermione and Lupin were great, and it wasn't as if he couldn't talk to them, but with Sirius it had been different. Sirius had known what it was like to have dark magic hanging over your head. For fourteen years the entire wizarding world had believed Sirius to be a murderer. After escaping from Azkaban he had the threat of the Dementor's kiss to worry about. Yes, Sirius had definitely known about misery.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there staring at that tapestry. He might have even drifted into a light sleep, but it was Lupin coming into the room that caused him to stir again.

"You know Harry, we do have beds to sleep in," he joked.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry replied, straightening his glasses as he sat up. "What time is it?"

"Nearly three. Why are you down here anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry supplied, shrugging.

"Ah, rough day?"

Harry nodded.

He had a sudden urge to tell Lupin everything that he was feeling. The fact that Voldemort had made Horcruxes, that he and Dumbledore had already destroyed two of them, that there were still four out there. These Horcruxes were the reason for Dumbledore's withered hand. That the greatest wizard alive had spent years and years tracking them down and had only managed to find two, and one of those hadn't even been the real one. That Dumbledore had set him the task of finding the remaining four, and they didn't even have a clue what one of them was. Then it was set down to him, a sixteen-year old wizard, to destroy the last bit of soul that was within Lord Voldemort. Harry wanted to tell Lupin that he was scared, and frustrated and angry. He really wanted to say, knowing how childish it sounded even in his head, that it was unfair.

"Just stuff with Dudley," Harry mumbled when Lupin looked like he wanted more of an answer than a shrug.

"And perhaps a certain red-head?' Lupin asked smiling, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He didn't smile. Lupin's mention of Ginny had made him feel even worse. In addition to all the things that he had just wanted to tell Lupin about, he was now reminded that he was worried for Ginny's safety. It wasn't as if he had forgot to worry, he had been doing that for weeks, but it brought back those worries in full measure. He not only had to worry that he might not survive the destruction of Voldemort, but that she wouldn't.

But, thought Harry, sinking even lower into despair, it wasn't just Ginny or himself that he had to worry about. It was Ron, Hermione, the other Weasleys, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and countless others. They were in as much danger as he or Ginny. They didn't know about the Horcruxes, that was true, but Voldemort certainly didn't discriminate and only torture and murder those who knew about what he would do to achieve immortality.

"Are you sure you're all right Harry?" Lupin asked now looking at him with concern in his eyes.

"No," Harry admitted. "I –" He didn't know what he was going to tell Lupin. He couldn't tell him about what he had to do to defeat Voldemort. In fact, Harry was sure that Lupin didn't know about the prophecy at all. He didn't want to admit to his former professor that he was scared that he was going to lose everyone that he cared about, as seemed to be the pattern in his life. "I'm just worried about Ginny," he said. At least it was mostly the truth. "I mean, we all know what Voldemort's capable of. I just don't want her to get hurt because of me."

The former marauder looked at Harry appraisingly for a minute. Harry knew that Lupin could tell that this was not the only reason. He expected Lupin to ask him what else was bothering him. Lupin didn't ask this though. Instead he said, "I wouldn't expect any less from you Harry. But you can't dwell on what ifs or possibilities of what could happen. The wards that we put in place around the Burrow when you came to stay there last summer are still in place. Arthur, being an important ministry official now, has garnered a bit more protection himself. I assure you Harry, the Burrow is about as safe as possible in these times, and more safe than most places."

"But this is Voldemort we're talking about," Harry said angrily. "He can probably get through those wards with one wave of his wand. I mean he got through the ones at Privet Drive when they were supposed to be impenetrable."

"What would you like to do then, Harry? Have the Weasleys hole up here in Grimmauld Place and not live their lives? Wouldn't that give Voldemort more power than he ever deserved to have? Wouldn't that be allowing him to control our lives?"

"At least they'd be safe," Harry stated, as he paced around the room. He didn't even recall getting off the couch.

"Perhaps. But how much of a life would they have if they had to spend it here? That's not a way to live, Harry. Surely you can remember how Sirius handled it."

Harry stopped pacing and stared at Lupin. He had a sad expression on his face. It was one that Harry had only seen there twice before, after the death of Dumbledore, and after Sirius had gone through the veil. Sometimes he forgot that Lupin had been one of Sirius's closest friends. For the first time, Harry wondered how being here affected Lupin. Had they spent a lot of time here when they were still in school? Or when Sirius had first come here after Voldemort's return? Was Lupin reminded of Sirius every time he stepped into this house?

Harry felt another twang of guilt as he recalled that he didn't feel this way. Every now and then he was reminded of his godfather. Like when he looked at the tapestry and recalled the conversation they had had when first looking at it. Or, that time in the kitchen when he had remembered laughing with Sirius. But it almost seemed like Sirius had never been there. Nothing had really been his, it had all belonged to his family. Many of the items that had lined the shelves were gone, whisked away with the rubbish, when Sirius had still been alive, or nicked by Mundungus Fletcher.

Forgetting for the moment about the Burrow and the Weasleys, Harry decided that he needed to ask Lupin about this. He didn't think that it was normal not to have memories of his godfather when in Sirius's house.

"Does this place remind you of him?"

"Of Sirius?" Lupin sat back in his chair as if thinking about how to answer the question. "Yes, I guess it does," he said finally. "I mean there are things that I see here that clearly have his influence. The lack of décor for instance." Lupin waved his hand around the almost empty drawing room. "Sirius never was much for decorating."

"That's not what I mean. I was talking about memories. Shouldn't we think of Sirius more often being here? I mean it is his house after all," Harry said. "Like when I look at that –" he gestured to the Black family tree " – I remember the first time that he showed me that, but that's one of the few things that comes back to me clearly."

"Its your house now Harry," Lupin reminded him before continuing. "You remember what went on here though?"

"Yeah, but only if I consciously do it," Harry said flopping back down on the couch. "Its almost like Sirius was never here."

"He was. Not being reminded of him around every turn is a good thing. At least you're not dwelling on his death."

Harry snorted in disbelief.

"Are you trying to say you would much rather wallow away your life?" Lupin asked, his eyebrow raised. Harry didn't say anything but his face must have betrayed some of what he was feeling because Lupin continued. "Exactly, I thought not. Sirius wouldn't have wanted it either. He would want to be out there doing something."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said slowly. He wasn't quite sure Lupin had made him feel any better. In fact his comment about doing something made Harry feel guilty for being holed up here while almost everyone else was fighting a war.

"Remembering is good," Lupin continued, causing Harry to return his attention to the conversation. "Dwelling isn't. Your feelings are perfectly normal Harry. I remember feeling the same things after Lily and James –" he stopped for a minute. "Sorry, it's just - even now its sometimes hard when I realized they're gone. Anyway, you just have to keep the memories and move on with your life."

Lupin rose from the chair he had been sitting in.

"I think you could use some sleep, I know I sure can. Goodnight Harry."

"Night Moony," Harry responded using Lupin's old marauder name.

"Oh yes. You can sleep soundly tonight Harry, Ginny's fine." Lupin had turned back when he reached the door. "Arthur and Molly sent word just a few hours ago, and Moody's there on guard tonight."

Harry did relax after that. At least tonight she was fine.

Harry was grateful to the Order of the Phoenix, as they kept him informed that Ginny remained safe. He and Ginny hadn't dared send any owls in case they were intercepted. He did hear that she was busy preparing for Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Lupin and Tonks would drop by the Burrow regularly, and would bring back news about the progress of preparations. From the thoroughly intricate details that Tonks gave Hermione, much to Harry and Ron's chagrin, things were coming along extremely well.

Harry wished that things at number twelve, Grimmauld Place were going as well as they were at the Burrow. He, Ron and Hermione were still searching pointlessly for information on the Horcruxes, and three days later had had no more luck. Hermione, also finally starting to show some frustration, had suggested they take a break and do something else.

"Great. I'm just about ready for some chess," Ron said throwing down his quill.

"No Ron, I was thinking more like trying some of those spells from _Practical Defensive Magic_. I think that set would give us useful jinxes," Hermione replied pointing to the books that were lying on a table nearby. The books had been a present from Lupin and Sirius two Christmases ago. Harry hadn't looked at them much since the Dumbledore's Army days.

"Oh," Ron's face fell. He clearly wanted a break from work. "Maybe we can do that after dinner."

"No, we've got Dudley later," Hermione grimaced at the thought.

They had made little progress with Dudley over the last three days. He was still thoroughly excited about using a wand, but had thus far not managed to levitate anything. He had, thankfully, been saying the incantation properly ever since Harry had levitated him and sent him crashing to the ground.

"Great." Ron slumped back in his chair. "Doing work while we're on holiday." Hermione shot him a reproving look. "I know, I know," Ron said looking nervous for a second. Harry thought he saw Ron look at him quickly, but realized he had been imagining it.

Ron and Hermione, after that first day, had been a little less overtly affectionate. Harry suspected that Hermione might have known part of the reason why he had been so grumpy. Sometimes she was just too smart for her own good that girl. Harry had contradictory feelings about their new behaviour. On the one hand he was glad that he didn't have to sit and watch them together, so happy, when he was miserable without Ginny. But that small voice inside him that was probably his conscience told him that he was being selfish. Ron and Hermione had taken a long time to get here. And it wasn't like they were snogging each other senseless every time that they were within reach.

Harry didn't want to be the one that interfered with their intimate moments. Therefore, when the three friends weren't researching, teaching Dudley, or debating about learning new spells, he tended to leave them alone. He wanted to give them as much time as they needed to break-in this new facet of their relationship. Harry smiled at the thought. He really didn't want to know exactly what they did when they were alone (one intrusion was enough thank you),. He just assumed they were "studying."

As the days wore on, and a week passed since the Weasleys had left, Harry found that he was spending more and more time by himself. He would traipse about the house, looking at everything that had changed since he had last stayed there. The more time that he spent doing this, the more depressed and hostile he seemed to become. He wouldn't have noticed this, except for the fact that Ron, Hermione, and the others started to complain about his temperament. This caused him to avoid their company even more frequently..

The more time that he spent in this house, the more Harry started to understand why Sirius was the way he was. It wasn't as if Harry was trapped here. But he didn't really have anywhere else to go. That is, at least until his birthday which was still several days away. And the only other reason that he was going to leave Grimmauld Place, was if they somehow found a clue as to where the next Horcrux was, or how to destroy one.

It was during one of these solitary trips through the house that Harry stumbled across a room that he had never been in before. He knew what this room was. It was vacant

This was Sirius's bedroom

Harry stood rooted to the spot. He didn't dare enter, but yet he couldn't seem to work his feet to carry him away from the door. Who knew what state this room would be in. It could be completely empty for all Harry knew. Members of the Order could have come in and packed up the little possessions that Sirius may have kept in there. Kreacher, the contemptuous house-elf, could have come in and cleared the room of all the Black family heirlooms. That is, if any of them had survived Sirius's purge.

His hand seemed to curl itself around the doorknob without Harry's will. He stood in that position for another minute before making up his mind. He turned the knob and the door swung open. Of all the possible scenes that Harry had imagined seeing behind that door, the one that met his eyes was not among them.

It looked like Sirius's room hadn't been touched. It was as if he had just gone to work, or possibly on a holiday.

This room was as drab as the rest of the house, and perhaps even more so, because it looked like no one had been in to clean since Sirius had died. The dust was thick on all the surfaces, and Harry could see several cobwebs hanging in the corners.

It was a large room; in fact it was larger than the room that Harry and Ron shared two floors below. In the centre was a large bed, the largest Harry had ever seen. It was a four-poster like the one he had at Hogwarts, but instead of the deep red, velvet curtains and coverings, this bed was covered in a blue bedspread, which had once probably been a deep blue, but had faded over time. The curtains around the bed, now tied back, matched the spread, but seemed to have fallen victim to Doxys like the drawing room curtains. A plain wood nightstand stood to the left of the bed; there was nothing on it. To Harry's right was a large fireplace, now empty of flames, and looked very cold.

This room was almost an embodiment of Sirius's mood during the last few months of his life. It was bleak and empty. Sirius had probably purged this room of everything else that it once held, much as he had been doing with the rest of the house. Just being here for a few seconds Harry started to feel a little more depressed and despondent. He didn't know how Sirius could have stood to come into this room at all.

Harry walked farther into the room and sat down on the bed. He looked around once more, and found nothing but drabness. He didn't even know why he was still here, except that this had once been Sirius's room. In spite of the conversation that Harry and Lupin had a few days before, he couldn't help but feel that he should feel more of a connection to Sirius at Grimmauld Place.

Had this been where they had found Sirius's will, the one that had bestowed this house upon Harry? It seemed likely. Maybe it was in the nightstand. Harry pulled open the only drawer, half-expecting to see a piece of parchment with Sirius's writing on it; but there was no paper in there.. For a few short seconds he had thought that maybe he would have seen something written by his godfather. Harry's heart sank, making him realize how hopeful he had actually been.

The drawer wasn't empty though. Inside was mirror, about the size of a book. Harry stared at it, astonishment flooding all his thoughts. His first inclination was to laugh. Sirius had purged this room of everything but a bed and a nightstand but saw fit to keep a mirror? Harry had never taken his godfather to be vain. After a second though he realized that the mirror looked familiar. Harry used to own a mirror that looked just like this one; he still did, but it was sitting broken at the bottom of his trunk.

His astonishment turned to anger in the blink of an eye. He was angry with himself. It was Harry's own stupidity that had caused him to rush off to the ministry of magic the night that Sirius had died. He had forgotten all about the grubby little package that Sirius had handed him as he returned to school.. If he had remembered it he could have used that to check Sirius was OK, and had not been kidnapped by Voldemort, rather than listening to the lies that Kreacher had spat at him when he had tried to check from Umbridge's fire.

He remembered clearly when he had discovered the mirror at the bottom of his trunk and how he had tried in vain to contact Sirius. Well, he had been right. Sirius didn't have the mirror on him. It had been sitting here in this room for over a year.

Harry very slowly reached in and picked up the mirror. Would it still work if he repaired the other one? And how did the charm work exactly? You had to speak the other person's name, but did it work only because the spell was put on for those two people, or did it just matter who had the mirrors? Harry didn't know, but there was someone that probably would.

Harry quickly left the room to find Hermione. He didn't know what good the mirrors would be, but he was sure that he and his friends would find a use for them. He made a stop in the room he and Ron were still sharing, and rummaged around in his trunk (which Lupin had retrieved from Privet Drive) for the broken mirror.

"Reparo," he muttered hastily when he finally found it in it's shattered remnants at the very bottom. The mirror flew back together, and looked good as new.

The two mirrors now in his hand, Harry resumed his search for Ron and Hermione. It wasn't much of a search. The last place that Harry had left them was in the library where they were once again researching spells that could help them in their dark and dangerous quest. However, when Harry opened the door, he found that they had dispensed with books and seemed to be researching each other.

Not wanting to interrupt them, he closed the door and walked slowly down to his favorite haunt, the tapestry room, as he had started calling it. He collapsed on the couch, his bad mood back in full force. Why now, of all times, did they have to be doing that?

Harry put the two mirrors down on the table beside the couch and stood up, walking towards the tapestry of the Black Family Tree. As he approached it his eyes fell on the cigarette like burn where Sirius's name had once been. As he thought about the story his godfather had told him about Mr. And Mrs. Black, Harry couldn't help but think they sounded a lot like his aunt and uncle. If there wasn't the slight inconvenience of the Blacks hating Muggles, and the Dursleys hating wizards, the two couples would have got on very well.

Standing here, looking at this tapestry, it was as if Harry had used a time turner and traveled back two years. The words that Sirius had said when standing directly on this spot echoed in Harry's mind.

"_He was younger than me, and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."_

"_Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters."_

" _. . . he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he go in so far, the panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out."_

As these words played through his mind, Harry stared at the name Regulus Black. Something clicked in his mind. But as soon as he thought it, it seemed the most ridiculous impossibility ever. But . . . did he know that for certain? It would be just the sort of thing that happened to Harry. He was looking for answers that were in some obscure place, and they were right in front of him.

As though his brain was knitting his thoughts together, something else came to mind. Two years ago, when they were cleaning one of the other rooms they had found a heavy locket that none of them could open. Unless Harry was much mistaken, that was the very locket that he and Dumbledore had seen around Merope Gaunt's neck, and again in Hepzibah Smith's house.

Possibilities were swimming around Harry's head so fast they were making him dizzy. He didn't have the note with him anymore, but was positive it said the writer thought they would be dead before Voldemort ever discovered that the locket was gone.

Was the locket Horcrux here in Grimmauld Place? Could the mysterious R.A.B. in fact be Regulus Black?


	8. 8 In Kreacher's Keeping

CHAPTER EIGHT: IN KREACHER'S KEEPING

R.A.B was Regulus Black. Harry was sure of it. It made perfect sense. True, he didn't know Regulus's middle name, but that didn't seem important now. Everything else fit here. It looked like things were finally going right for them in this search. But the problem now was where was the locket? He had a horrible feeling that it might have been one of the things that Mundungus took when he raided the house. What would have happened with those things when he had been arrested? Or even more troublesome, what if he had already got rid of everything by that time? The locket could be anywhere.

Why did Mundungus have to be such a skiving thief? If he had just kept his damned hands off of Sirius's stuff the locket would still be here, and they would be a little farther on in getting rid of Voldemort. If Harry ever laid hands on that Fletcher, well, Mundungus would not get the chance to Apparate away this time.

Harry turned to flop back down on the couch when a flash of light caught his eye. The candles that were burning in the room had been caught in the reflection from one of the mirrors that was still sitting on the end table beside the couch. Well, thought Harry, it looked like they weren't going to be needing those anytime soon. It really was no rush to get Hermione to look at them after all.

Harry started to mentally berate himself again for that night at the Department of mysteries. If only he had remembered this package. But, if Kreacher hadn't been the little toe rag that he was, and had told the truth the situation could have been avoided too. Harry was in such a bad mood now, at having the locket so close but yanked out of his reach again, that he didn't feel at all sorry for being as angry as he was at Kreacher.

Why hadn't the Order set the evil little house-elf free before they had taken over Grimmauld Place as headquarters? That would have solved everyone a hole hell of a lot of trouble. The foul little git that had no problem demonstrating the pure-blood mania that Sirius's parents had been known for. Even after Mrs. Black had been dead for nearly ten years, Kreacher worshipped her. Coming into the house and trying to sneak off everything that they were attempting to throw out . . .

"KREACHER!" Harry bellowed at top volume.

CRACK!

The house-elf appeared instantly. He was quite as filthy as he had been the last time Harry had seen him. Even though he had been working at Hogwarts now for the last year, he had not picked up any better grooming habits. Harry realized, for the first time, just how well he fit with this house.

"Master called?' Kreacher asked, bowing low but not before he glared at Harry.

"Yeah I did. I want to talk to you about something. When we were cleaning the house –"

At that instant there were loud noises from two areas in the drawing room. Harry, quickly spun around, surveying the room. He had drawn his wand from his pocket as he did so, heart racing. Grimmauld Place was supposed to be safe from Death Eater attacks, well again except for Severus Snape, but that didn't stop Harry from being prepared for anything. Moody's repetitious refrain of 'Constant Vigilance' was having its effect on him.

In the corner closest to the Black Family tree another house-elf had appeared. It was Dobby.

The door of the drawing room had also burst open. When Harry spun in that direction he saw that Ron, Hermione, Lupin and Tonks were standing there with their wands drawn. Behind them, cowering, were Dudley and his parents.

"You can put those down, its only Kreacher," Harry said to the four people that had their wands pointing into the room.

"What the hell Harry?" Hermione asked, clutching her heart with the hand that was still holding her wand. It was most unlike Hermione to swear. "We thought that Snape or someone –"

"Sorry," Harry said shortly. He wanted to talk to Kreacher and couldn't do it with all these people around. "I need to talk to Kreacher, alone please."

"Right. Just no more shouting, please," Tonks requested. Her hair had been that same mousy brown that it had been for most of the previous year, but was quickly turning back into her trademark bubblegum pink. The shock had caused it to change back to its normal color.

"You two can stay," Harry told Ron and Hermione as he turned to face Dobby. How did the house-elf even get here? He had been under the impression that the Fidelius charm worked on everyone, human and elf alike. Maybe that wasn't right. Maybe Dobby had some kind of tracking spell on Kreacher. Harry didn't have time to contemplate this latest mystery though, "Dobby, I know that you probably want to help, but I need to speak with Kreacher alone."

"OK, Harry Potter, sir," the house-elf squeaked. "If sir needs anything please call Dobby."

"I will, thanks," Harry ignored the look that he was getting from Hermione. Dobby smiled broadly before Disapparating with another loud CRACK.

"What's this about Harry?" Ron asked as he closed the door behind Lupin, who was the last to leave. Harry didn't answer the question. Instead he turned back to Kreacher.

"I want to know what you did with all the things that Sirius threw out."

"Oh no, not the murderer again," the ancient house-elf croaked in his deep hoarse voice.

"Don't start," Harry said dangerously, but Kreacher had gone off on his own tangent.

"The murderer comes back from Azkaban and starts throwing out all my mistresses prized possessions. My poor old mistress . . . lucky she isn't here to see. Now there are mudbloods and half-bloods fouling up the house."

"Kreacher answer me!" Harry demanded. "What did you do with those things?"

"They're in Kreacher's keeping," he answered, vaguely. Then he added, in what was meant to be an undertone, "so they don't get binned."

Harry meant to grab the house-elf by one of his thin arms, but the elf moved just as Harry reached for him, and he ended up catching him by the neck.

"Harry no," Hermione moaned.

He ignored her and brought the little loathsome being closer to him.

"Don't mess with me. I am in no mood for this. I want to know what you did with those things. I want to know where you put them. Tell the truth." Harry didn't even notice that he had just used the exact same words as the young Tom Riddle had when Dumbledore had gone to see him at the Muggle orphanage.

Kreacher looked at Harry with sheer hatred in his eyes. But he couldn't disobey a direct order.

"In Kreacher's cupboard," he said slowly, his voice full of malice.

"Did you take that locket Kreacher?" Harry asked. Again the elf gave him a look as though he were something disgusting, but he nodded. "Get it for me now," he demanded. The elf snapped his fingers and a heavy gold chain appeared in his hand.

Harry only had to look quickly at it to know it was not the Slytherin locket. Another hope dashed.

"Is that it?" Hermione asked, coming closer to inspect the chain. The confusion that she had worn on her face when Harry had first spotted her in the door was gone, replaced by a look of pure wonder and anticipation.

"No," Harry said quietly. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. At least no one was hurt in this attempt to get the locket. "The other one has a snakey 'S' on it."

"So where did this one come from?" Ron asked also coming closer to take a look at it. Both Harry and Hermione looked at him. Sometimes Ron could be thick, but this was stupidity worthy of Dudley. "I mean why was it here in the house in the first place?" he clarified.

"That's a good question." Hermione looked impressed. "Kreacher, can you tell us where this locket came from?" she asked kindly.

"The mudblood is talking to Kreacher again," the house-elf said nastily. From the expression of glee that appeared on his face he knew very well that Hermione would hear him, and that the term was offensive.

"Don't call her that," Harry and Ron shouted at the decrepit elf. Then Harry added, "answer her Kreacher."

The house-elf was going to have a permanent look of purest loathing soon Harry thought to himself as Kreacher fixed both him and Hermione with another gaze. He took so long to answer that Harry was about to make another demand.

"Kreacher is getting it with the Noble Master Regulus, the brave and gallant pure-blood who –"

"With Regulus?" Harry asked. "What you do you mean with him?"

Harry was sure that he was going to have to threaten Kreacher again to get this newest bit of information from him. To the amazement of the three people that were in the room the house-elf actually swelled to his full height and a smile crossed his face. He looked proud. This was a side of Kreacher that they had never seen before. It was strangely unsettling.

"Master Regulus worked for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He performed untold horrors for the Dark Lord, to please his parents, as was expected from one with so noble a bloodline. He did not besmirch the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black with mudbloods, half-bloods, werewolves, and - and others."

"Get on with it," Harry said impatiently. Kreacher glanced at him looking angry at the interruption, but continued.

"Kreacher does not know how the youngest Black came to know of the cave, but he asked Kreacher to go with him on a dangerous mission. Kreacher was very pleased to go with the young Master. They go to a cave with a lot of green light. They travel in a boat across a smooth lake with inferi. The young master conjures a goblet and gets Kreacher to drink a horrible potion that makes him feel as if a Dementor is near. Kreacher doesn't want to, but does it for Master Regulus –"

"How horrible! He made you drink it?" Hermione asked shrilly.

"Kreacher does it because he is pleased to serve in the Noble house of Black. He and Master Regulus travel back Kreacher thinks there was fire, but can't remember too well because the potion makes him feel quite sick. But when he and Master Regulus get back to the house master Regulus gives Kreacher a locket and asks him to disguise it. Kreacher does so and then Master Regulus puts it in the cabinet where it was removed two summers ago."

"Why didn't he just destroy it?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Kreacher doesn't ask questions that are not befitting of his station," the house-elf said as if Harry had suggested he do something disgusting. "The mudblood, should remember that," he added in another audible whisper.

"How many bloody times to I have to tell you not to call her that?" Ron asked hotly.

"I forbid you to use that word again," Harry spoke angrily. He didn't wait for the inevitable nasty look. "You said that you disguised the locket? Show me."

Kreacher ran one of his long fingers over the locket and the gold in the centre seemed to melt into the 'S' shape that he had seen on the other occasions. Ron and Hermione leaned in even closer so that they could take a look at the change in the locket. Harry pulled the fake Horcrux out of his pocket.

Now he looked at the two chains together he felt even more stupid that he hadn't caught on that the locket he and Dumbledore had got together wasn't the real one. It looked nothing like Slytherin's locket. That was of little importance now, they had the actual Horcrux; a seventh of Voldemort's soul.

Harry reached out to take the locket from Kreacher. His hand an inch away he stopped. He didn't want to take it. They hadn't learned how to destroy a Horcrux. The last one he had destroyed had been with a Basilisk fang, they didn't have one of those lying around Grimmauld Place.

"Go on, take it Harry," Hermione encouraged.

Reluctantly he stretched out his fingers the last inch to take the locket. Kreacher snatched it back.

"Give that to me," Harry demanded, making a grab for it. Kreacher dodged him. Harry felt a strange sense of déjà vu. He had done this dodging thing once before. "Kreacher I demand that you give that to me," he said.

Mumbling furiously under his break the elf stepped forward and stretched out his hand. Feeling a fresh wave of foreboding, Harry once again reached out to take the Horcrux. Knowing Voldemort there was some nasty curse on this thing that would activate when he touched it. As Harry's fingers closed on the cold metal of the locket he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for something horrible.

But nothing happened. Harry opened his eyes. The locket lay there looking no different than any other antique pendant.

"Well, one down," Ron said.

"Yeah." Harry didn't take his eyes off the locket. Despite the frustration he had expressed over the past days on their lack of useful findings during the hours they spent in the library, he couldn't believe that they had found the locket so easily. It almost seemed too easy. Dumbledore surely would have known who R.A.B. was.

But Dumbledore never saw the note. It wasn't until Harry had gone to see the lifeless form of his dead headmaster that he had found the locket, which had burst open after the fall. It was then that he had found the note with R.A.B.'s initials.

It was strange. Harry was feeling both sadness and happiness at the same time. He was happy that they had found the locket. Well, maybe not happy, relieved. But that had brought back all those painful feelings about Dumbledore. Harry remembered how he had disappointed his headmaster in not getting the memory from Slughorn that told of the Horcruxes, how anxious he had been to show Dumbledore when he finally did procure it. He wished that the great wizard was here now. Harry wanted to tell him that he had succeeded in finding the Horcrux that had not been in the cave.

The headmaster couldn't talk to him though. He had been murdered. Killed by someone that he had been sure was a friend no less. Harry felt himself starting to get angry at the thought of Snape again.

Nothing had been heard about Snape since he had Disapparated with Draco that night. At least, there was no news that had reached Harry's ears. He wasn't sure if this was because no one from the order had been in contact with the slime ball, or if they just weren't mentioning it to Harry. He hoped it was the former, because he couldn't stand the idea that anyone from the order would buy into what the two-faced murdering – Snape was a master Occlumens. He could hide things from the two most powerful wizards in the world. He could therefore hide things from others, surely.

"What's got you so worked up now?" Ron inquired, looking at Harry quizzically.

"Snape," Harry spat.

"What does he have to do with this?"

"He killed Dumbledore," Harry said loudly. "That has everything to do with this. I wouldn't have to do this alone if it wasn't for that fu-" he stopped. Ron and Hermione were looking hurt. "No, I mean, not alone, but you know, without Dumbledore." He finished lamely. What was wrong with him lately, putting his foot in his mouth with what seemed like every other sentence he uttered?

"We understand," Hermione said, consolingly. "You've been frustrated lately. Given what's ahead of you – of us –" she corrected, "I would be amazed if you weren't a bit on edge."

"Thanks." Harry turned to Kreacher, who was staring at the three friends; he looked as if he was about to be sick. "You are not to tell anyone in any way about this locket. You are to deny that you ever had it in your possession if asked. Tell no one about what you heard us discuss today. I want you to go back to Hogwarts and stay there. I'll call you if I need you."

Harry waited as he had done before, to make sure that the elf didn't get one of those wicked grins on his face indicating that he had found a loophole. None came, making Harry, Ron and Hermione breath a little easier. Nonetheless, Harry felt need to add, "If I find out that you have made any mention that you were here today for something other than cleaning, I swear I will throttle you to death. Understood?"

Kreacher gave him another disgusted look as he nodded.

"You can go." There was another loud crack and the filthy house-elf disappeared.

"Harry, I can't believe that you would talk to him like that!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Don't start with that spew stuff again. I don't want to hear it right now," Harry replied, not looking at her. He was staring at the locket. Now they had it, a more pressing matter was upon them, how to destroy it.

No brilliant insights came to any of them when Harry brought up their newest dilemma. It looked as though they were going to be spending more time in the library.

Harry's birthday was fast approaching. In three days he would turn seventeen. He didn't have strong feelings about this either way. His birthdays had never really been something he looked forward to. Harry supposed it would be nice to be of age and be able to legally do magic, without having to worry about getting a letter from the Improper Use of Magic office. But it was going to be strange too. He would be an adult, and able to do whatever he wanted.

Mr. Weasley had stopped by headquarters that very day on his way to work. He had come to finalize the arrangements for moving the trio to the Burrow. Hermione was going to go straight there with Tonks of the day of Harry's birthday. Harry and Ron, however were going to accompany Mr. Weasley to the ministry to take their Apparition tests, like they had talked about when Ron had failed his in the spring.

There had been much discussion on this topic. Mrs. Weasley was not fond of the idea of her youngest and surrogate sons doing something so dangerous. They were going to be out in the open and could be snatched by any Death Eater, especially if they didn't Apparate to the right place. She had sent a howler when Ron flat out refused to change the plan. He had sent one right back telling her they were not changing the plan.

In the midst of these plans, the trio was spending about eighteen hours a day looking through any book they could lay their hands on that might help them in destroying the Horcrux. They were going to try and avoid trial-and-error tactics if at all possible. Who knew what would happen if they used the wrong spell.

Hermione had Harry recount how he had destroyed the diary back in second year. She wanted to go over everything that had happened in minute detail. Harry retold the story so many times that he became thoroughly sick of it. He was sorely tempted to buy a pensieve, put the memory in it, and let Hermione peruse it at her leisure.

"I don't think basilisk venom would work in this case anyway," she said for about the fortieth time. The three of them were sitting in the basement kitchen, around the wooden table. The Dursleys had long ago gone to bed, and Lupin and Tonks were off doing work for the order. Harry was sure they were at the Burrow as guards this evening. As the wedding approached and the trio made ready to return security was being tightened even further.

"We know that," Ron stated irritably. All three of them were exhausted. They had been doing little else but research and sleeping. Their lack of progress mixed with lack of sleep was making the three friends short-tempered with each other.

"Well at least I am making suggestions, unlike you," Hermione snapped. Ron opened his mouth to retort.

"Shut up already," Harry yelled at them. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Maybe we should just take a night off or something. You know, do something fun, or sleep. We always seem to stumble on something when we're least expecting it. Maybe we'll get a sudden inspiration if we aren't trying to find it so hard."

Ron was all for that idea, but Hermione, predictably, wanted to continue working.

"I think that we should just start trying things," she said. Both Ron and Harry looked at her. They were sure this was her last ditch effort to keep them working. It had been she that had said they shouldn't chance destroying the Horcrux without researching first. "At least if we try something it might tell us if the locket is cursed."

None of them were really enthusiastic about this idea. Harry kept thinking about Dumbledore's withered hand. He already had one scar that caused people to gawk at him. He wasn't anxious to have another.

"And exactly what should we start with?"

"We need to destroy the locket," Hermione stated thinking aloud. "I mean what is a Horcrux but a container for the piece of soul. So we would need to break the locket and that should release it, thus causing the Horcrux to be rubbish, no longer useable. " She had stood up from the table and was walking back and forth in front of the large fireplace. Her head was down and she had her hand over her mouth as she paced. She looked like she was thinking hard.

"Hermione, you're starting to make me dizzy," Ron spoke a few minutes later. His head had been following her progress. She had stopped speaking, but it looked like thoughts were racing through her mind, and she had started to walk faster.

"Yes, that would be the best to start with," Hermione said slowing down. "Harry, I think that you should try a reductor curse."

Harry, who had put his head down on his arms as she strode about the room in silence, slowly sat back up and looked at his friend.

"Really? Doesn't that seem like it would be too simple?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" Hermione snapped, putting her hands on her hips and looking angry.

"No," Harry admitted. He guessed that it was worth a try. The worst that would happen (he hoped) is that the spell would bounce back and reduce something else. He stood up, pulling his wand out as he did so. Harry reminded himself to be ready to duck. As he prepared to make the first attempt at exterminating this Horcrux Ron suddenly spoke up.

"I – uh – think that maybe we should back away, just in case." Without question the three friends stepped back several paces. They now stood about five feet away from the table, each on a different side. "I wouldn't much fancy a black and withered hand," Ron confessed sheepishly.

"Well, here goes . . ." Harry raised the wand again. He didn't know what to expect. He hadn't been injured the last time that he had destroyed a Horcrux. He hadn't been injured by the Horcrux anyway. "REDUCTO," he yelled.

The spell hit the locket and rebounded immediately on Harry. He didn't notice this though. As soon as the spell made contact with the locket pain shot through Harry's scar and he lost his balance, sinking to his knees. If he hadn't the spell would certainly have hit him. Instead it hit a pot that was hanging on the wall behind Harry and reduced it to dust.

"Harry are you OK?" Hermione asked as she and Ron rushed over. "What happened?"

"Scar," Harry said, from his place on the floor. He had his hand over his forehead. He was feeling a little queasy now, even though the pain had gone. Why did shooting a reductor curse at that locket cause him to feel sick? Harry had used that curse plenty of times before and had never experienced an effect like that.

"That was close," Ron said, glancing at the pile of dust that had landed on the counter behind Harry. Hermione had her hand over her mouth as she gazed at him, her concern and shock evident.

"What was that?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione. He realized that she probably didn't have the answer either, but she would be most likely to find it, given that she read every book in sight. He explained what he had felt when the spell connected with the locket.

"I don't know. That's not normal," she said, stating the obvious. "Maybe it has something to do with the evil that created the Horcrux, or with the connection that you have with Voldemort." Both she and Harry ignored Ron's shudder.

The momentary queasiness he had felt was gone, now a reckless anger was causing Harry's blood to boil. After having this revolting thing for several days they were no closer to being rid of it. He still had three other objects to find before he could even chance taking on Voldemort. Harry wanted to do away with the locket as soon as possible. He stood up. If he had to stand here all night trying every spell he knew, he was going to find one that worked.

"I'm going to try that again," he told Ron and Hermione, his jaw fixed in determination. He was going to start with the reductor curse again. Maybe it was a matter of having to hit the thing at the right angle or something. "REDUCTO," he shouted again.

Ron and Hermione had ducked before Harry had even opened his mouth. The spell ricocheted again As had happened the first time, Harry felt that same sickening feeling. He ducked his own spell, but was able to remain on his feet. He tried again, and again, and again. that the effect was no different whether he changed positions or not.

With each failed attempt Harry's anger increased. As it did, so did the pain in his scar increased. The last time that he tried, he barely hit the locket because he had his eyes screwed up in pain

"COME OFF IT, THAT SHOULD WORK!" he finally shouted furiously, his eyes watering from the pain in his scar, and his knees weak with that sickening feeling. He felt like he was going to wretch.

"Harry, I don't think that this is the right spell," Hermione said timidly. "We're not supposed to be playing dodgeball here."

"Dodgeball?" Ron asked her Interested.

"Another reason you should have taken Muggle Studies," Hermione hissed at him before quietly saying "later."

"No, this is the one. We just have to do it differently," Harry said, firmly. He didn't know why he felt so sure that this was the right spell, but he was certain of it now. "It might require more force. C'mon you guys, help me. Reducto on three. One . . . two . . . three . . . "

Ron and Hermione pulled out their wands, looking as though they thought Harry had gone mad. But when Harry reached three they both added their shouts of, "Reducto," to Harry's.

Nothing different happened this time either, except for the fact that all three of them had to duck to avoid their own spells. Two more pots were reduced to ashes.

"See Harry, I don't think that this is the right spell," Hermione said again, getting back to her feet and dusting off her pants. This time Harry had to admit that she was probably right. His absolute certainly wasn't that absolute after all. He had tried every conceivable way of shooting that spell at the locket and nothing had changed. It didn't even look like it had been touched.

The anger that Harry felt inside was replaced by the all too familiar sense of despair he had experienced ridiculously often over the last six weeks. The only way he knew how to destroy a Horcrux was with basilisk venom. He didn't have any of that now as Hermione already stated, and he didn't feel much like brewing up poisonous potions to try.

"I think that we should give it up for tonight and do some more research," Hermione suggested.

"Yeah," Harry agreed in a defeated voice. He sat back down at the table and put his head in his hands once again. "AAAARRRGGHHH!" he suddenly burst out in fury and frustration.

"We're going to bed. We'll try again tomorrow" Ron told Harry. Both he and Hermione were looking at Harry sympathetically. "See you up there."

"Yeah," Harry still had his head in his hands. He felt too drained to try another spell.

Just this week Lupin had brought word of more Dementor attacks, and Tonks had told them that the Aurors had been called in to investigate the death of Sturgis Podmore, the bloke who had been arrested the night before Harry started fifth year. Once he had got out of Azkaban he had come back to work for the order. Lupin and Tonks had known him well and were quite upset at his murder.

If Harry wasn't able to destroy this Horcrux, the one that had already been removed from its original location, there was little hope that he would be able to find and get rid of the other three. It seemed like whenever he, Ron and Hermione made any sort of progress in this hunt, they would be forced to take two steps backwards. If this stream of setbacks didn't turn around soon Harry's fear of never being able to defeat Voldemort might become reality. He would have to sit back and watch as everyone he cared about was murdered.

Continuing to keep his head in his hands, Harry started to think about Ron and Hermione, and then of Ginny. He knew that he could not stand to see any of them lose their lives because the Death Eaters were gaining control over everything in the magical world.

Sighing heavily, Harry grabbed the locket, got to his feet and walked slowly to the door, weighted down with worries about his friends, and especially Ginny. She was fine now, but Harry still worried about her incessantly. If anything happened to her because of him . . .

Harry always felt better when he thought of Ginny. She was the only one that could make him see reason when he was being thickheaded. It had been her that had changed his mind about their relationship. She had made him see that his logic had been flawed. She had pointed out that not being together would do nothing but make them both miserable.

Harry would be seeing Ginny in just a few days. This thought made him smile, his first in days. He would be back at the Borrow which, now that they were back together, was once again the welcoming environment that it had always been . . .

Harry turned around halfway up the stairs, and walked back down to the kitchen. Upon entering he put the locket back on the table. He needed to try this one more time, if only just to satisfy himself that he had done the spell every which way. What would one more go at it cost him anyway?

Harry backed away, like he had done earlier. He raised his wand as he stared at the Horcrux that was sitting before him. He didn't shoot the spell right away, instead he thought about what it would mean for Voldemort to be defeated for good. He thought about all of the lives that would be spared. He thought about Ron and Hermione and Lupin and Tonks who had just started their relationships and had years ahead of them. He thought about Bill and Fleur who were getting married in a few days, and deserved to raise the dozens of scarlet and golden haired children they were bound to have in a safe world. But mostly he thought about Ginny. He thought about how she wouldn't be safe until Voldemort was gone for good.

"REDUCTO!" Harry shouted again.

He instinctively ducked, expecting to have to avoid his own spell again. But it was needless. The spell didn't ricochet this time. Instead the room shook, there was a loud shrieking noise and the sound of breaking metal. The room was soon engulfed in thick clouds of green smoke. As the smoke swirled around, not showing the usual signs of clearing, Harry was reminded of being back in that cave. It was an eerie feeling.

He had been forced backwards into the wall when the room had shook. Harry righted himself and walked over to the table. Lying there, where he had placed it, was Slytherin's locket. But now, it was in several pieces.

Harry picked up the pieces and stared at them in disbelief. He had been determined earlier to destroy this thing, but hadn't really thought that they would be able to do it. He was sure that it would take some spell of immense power and complexity to get through whatever it was that blocked the reductor curse.

Harry heard footsteps thundering down the stairs. The kitchen door squeaked as it burst open.

"Harry?"

"Harry, are you all right?"

"What happened?" Ron asked, coming into the room. The smoke had finally started to clear a little and Harry could see the outlines of Ron and Hermione.

Harry answered them by holding out the locket. A look of dawning comprehension appeared on both of their faces as they edged closer.

"You did it. But how?" Hermione asked surprised. "What spell did you use to destroy it?"

"Reductor curse," Harry said. He had a huge smile on his face. He felt triumphant.

"But that didn't work before," Hermione replied in a tone that showed she doubted what Harry was telling her. "You had to have done something different."

"Nope," Harry replied, but then he thought for a moment. "Well . . . I suppose I didn't get angry like I was doing before. That's about it."

Ron and Hermione continued to look like they thought he wasn't telling them something. They still wanted to know the details of how he had destroyed the Horcrux. Harry recounted exactly what had finally worked.

A few hours later, when he finally made it up to bed, Harry was still wearing a huge smile on his face. He had done it. He had destroyed the locket. There were only three more Horcruxes left. He wasn't worried about what obstacles he would have to get past to reach those last three. Right now all he felt was joy that something had gone right for a change, and in just a few days he would be back at the Burrow, and with Ginny.

With that last pleasant thought, he drifted into a night of peaceful sleep, one of the few he had all summer.


	9. 9 Welcome Back Potter

CHAPTER NINE: WELCOME BACK POTTER

"Harry, wake up," came a voice that sounded very distant. Harry didn't want to. He felt like he had just gone to sleep. He knew that wasn't right though. He had come upstairs not too long after dinner, and now the room was light.

"Happy birthday," Hermione's voice sounded again. Harry could feel his consciousness threatening to take over. He grunted for her to go away, and rolled back over in his blankets.

Harry had awaken the day after destroying the Horcrux, and had been back to his normal self. At least the normal self that he had been for the last few weeks anyway. That was, the moody, depressed Harry. The elated feeling that he had gone to sleep with did not carry through to the next day.

"You have to get up, Mr. Weasley is going to be here in an hour to take you and Ron to do your Apparition tests, then we're going to the Burrow. Everyone is looking forward to seeing you," Harry was still reluctant to get out of bed. "Especially Ginny!" Hermione added.

This had done the trick. Harry rolled over and stared at his friend. He could feel the smile on his face.

"OK, OK, I'm up," he said sleepily, stretching and making to get out of bed.

"I thought that would work," Hermione said. Harry didn't have his glasses on yet so he couldn't be sure, but he was fairly certain that she was smiling. "Tonks and I are leaving in ten minutes. See you guys there later,"

"Yeah," Harry replied as he threw back the covers.

"Oh, and if Ron doesn't make it again, don't be too hard on him," Hermione said gently. "I am sure that he will, but –"

"He'll do great. It was only half an eyebrow last time anyway," Harry told her loyally. He wasn't just saying this out of friendship for Ron. He was confident that his friend would pass this time.

An hour later, Harry and Ron were waiting by the door for Mr. Weasley. They couldn't Apparate to the ministry yet, and the elder Weasley could not side-along Apparate both of them, so they were once again going to be taking the underground.

As was always the case when he had the chance to act like a Muggle, Mr. Weasley was thoroughly overexcited.

"We're going to have to walk to the station again," he said, looking like a little boy with a new toy. "We can act like real Muggles for a change." He was positively beaming. "All the same," he said, a little of his exuberance fading, "make sure you keep your wands at the ready. We don't want to be unprepared."

As they had done two years previous when Harry had to go to the ministry for his hearing, he and Mr. Weasley made their way to the shabby underground station, this time Ron accompanied them.

"I can't see why we couldn't have just got a ministry car," Ron complained as they waited for the next train.

"Ron, don't be silly, we don't need one for this short of a walk," his father told him. "Honestly, a few Muggle experiences are good for you. I think that Hermione is right and we should have encouraged you to take Muggle Studies."

"Plus, I dunno if you could get one, if I was supposed to be there," Harry said. "I hear Scrimgeour is really unhappy with me." He wasn't upset at this. He still didn't care what the Minister of Magic thought of him.

"That reminds me Harry, I think that we might run into him today. I saw him last week and he made a point of asking if you were going to be in today to take your test. I have a feeling that he's going to come down to have another go," Mr. Weasley said, as he checked down the tracks to see if the train was coming yet.

"Fat chance," Harry replied flatly. "There's no way that I am going to do anything for them."

Mr. Weasley was once again his Muggle-loving self as they rode the underground, got off and ascended back to street level for the short walk to the Ministry.

"Simply fantastic," he muttered several times as he watched people on the streets going about their business. Only Mr. Weasley could say that about the shabby street they were on. It was enjoyable to watch his reactions. He was beside himself when he saw a man in a business suit, talking on a mobile phone.

"How extraordinary," he said. Mr. Weasley turned and was about the follow the man. Ron grabbed him by the back of his jacket.

"Dad, the test remember?"

"Oh, right, of course." Mr. Weasley said distracted, but he followed them.

They all piled into the same broken telephone box that had been there the year before, the last time that Harry had been at the ministry. Being the first one in, and closest to the phone, Harry dialed 6-2-4-4-2.The same cool witch's voice spoke.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and your business,"

Suddenly Harry wanted to do nothing but get out of that booth. He didn't want to go into the Ministry at all. This feeling had nothing to do with the fact that he might run into Rufus Scrimgeour.

The last time that he had been here was the night that Sirius had died. It was the night that Voldemort had planted that vision in Harry's mind that Sirius was down in the Hall of Prophecies, being tortured. It was that night that Sirius had died; the night that Harry had been possessed by Voldemort. This was also the night that Harry had heard the prophecy.

"Arthur Weasley, Detection and Confiscation." Mr. Weasley gave a shortened name for the department he was head of. Harry could understand why they had been keen to shorten the name. It was quite a mouthful if you had to say Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. "Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley, here for Apparition tests," the elder Weasley added.

"Thank you," said the female voice, coolly, as before. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes." Harry and Ron took the two badges that contained their names and reason for their visit. They attached them to their t-shirts. They listened to the voice telling them they needed to submit their wands for registration at the security desk. Then they slowly began to trundle down.

Harry pressed back as far in the little booth as he could go. He wanted to delay the inevitable first sight of the atrium below. He didn't know what sort of recollections he would have when he did see that place. The last thing that he wanted to be reminded of was the duel that had taken place here between Dumbledore and Voldemort. That scene had been even more poignant since he learned that he was the one fated to defeat the latter, and since the death of the former.

"Harry, you coming?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied. They had reached the atrium. He really wanted to say that he didn't want to go into the ministry. Or at the very least, he wished that he could keep his eyes shut tight until they had passed through, but with the amount of people that were bound to be here at this time of day walking around with his eyes closed was really not a viable option.

To his great relief, Harry didn't have any overpowering feelings as they walked through the atrium. He was mourning the loss of Dumbledore as he remembered the battle that had taken place here. It might not have taken place if he, Harry, hadn't felt the need to go chasing after Bellatrix Lestrange.

One of the first things that Harry noticed was the fact that the Fountain of Magical Brethren was no longer there. The pool was, but the witch, wizard, centaur and house-elf were gone. Had they not been able to repair it? Harry was sure that it would not take a lot of effort to fix the fountain; it was odd that they hadn't mended it. Harry was going to ask Mr. Weasley about this, but Mr. Weasley seemed anxious to keep him away from the fountain.

Harry didn't really have a burning desire to get nearer that fountain than absolutely necessary. That is, until he saw that the plaque, that had once read that the proceeds from the fountain went to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Harry remembered this plaque well. The one that now stood in front of the plinth was new. It had been replaced.

Harry wanted to go over and see what it said, but was steered away by Mr. Weasley.

"We can wait in my office for the next half hour until it's time for your appointments," he told Harry and Ron, leading them to the lifts at the other end of the atrium. Harry was quite certain that Mr. Weasley had led him away from that plaque on purpose. What was on it that he didn't want Harry to see?

Mr. Weasley's office was still on the second floor. It was now a proper office though, not a broom cupboard with two desks shoved in it.

He introduced Harry and Ron to his employees, all of whom looked as if they were being run ragged. They all seemed slightly perturbed when Mr. Weasley called them over to make introductions. However, their moods brightened considerably when they were introduced to Harry. Their eyes would open wide, comprehension dawning on them, then they would have to look for the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Harry always hated this, and was in no mood to have a dozen people all staring avidly at him.

"Are you here because of Scrimgeour?" a tiny witch with mousy brown hair asked Harry. She looked like she couldn't be much older than he was, and she kept trying to catch his eye. When he caught her at it, Harry would look just as resolutely in the other direction. He didn't know what it was about this witch, perhaps it was the hair, but she reminded him of Delores Umbridge. "Are you here for the –"

"I guess you didn't hear us the first time when we told you that we were here for our Apparition tests," Ron said loudly. Harry would frequently turn to look at his best friend when the Umbridge-like witch was making one of her attempts to flirt, or whatever it was that she was doing, Harry was sure he had grimaced at least once as he turned to his friend for help. Ron was looking slightly amused.

"And I think we're about due," Mr. Weasley stated, checking his watch.

Harry, who was not sorry to get away from the group of people milling around, set off immediately for the lifts. He knew that they had to go back down to the sixth floor for the Apparition Test Centre.

They didn't have to wait at all when they arrived on the sixth floor. Mr. Weasley had arranged a special appointment in an attempt to avoid the Minister and any other unwelcome visitors.

Wilkie Twycross, the Apparition instructor they had for lessons, was going to be testing both Ron and Harry. He took Ron in first, at Harry's request. He and Mr. Weasley waited ten minutes, and then Ron bounded out of the test room, brandishing his license.

"Piece of cake," he said, grinning broadly. "Not even one eyelash left behind this time."

It was now Harry's turn. He wasn't worried about this test. He could Apparate, he had done it several times already, once with Dumbledore in tow. It was sort of unnerving, the fact that he didn't feel nervous. Would that impair his ability to Apparate? Hermione always said that it was good to be a little nervous; you always seemed to do better on tests, was she right?

"We usually do this in an open area, like we did in Hogsmeade this spring. However, given the recent upsurge in Death Eater activity, we have decided that we are going to do the test inside until further notice," Twycross explained. He had pulled out his wand as he was talking, and conjured more of those stupid little hoops.

"Now Mr. Potter remember your three D's when Apparating into that hoop and you should do fine."

Harry couldn't remember the three D's at all. Destination was in there somewhere he thought, but the other two were complete blanks. It didn't matter. That was theory, much more Hermione's strong suit. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated hard. He twisted away, as Lupin and done a few weeks before. He felt the squeezing sensation that was a part of the Apparition process, and when he opened his eyes, he was in the hoop that Twycross had conjured.

"Excellent. Now again, a little farther away this time," Twycross conjured another hoop about a hundred feet farther away than the first had been. Harry Apparated into that one with no problems. Twycross again commended him. He had Harry try twice more, with a ring that was even farther away, and then with one that was just next to Harry. He said that this was to test both short and long-range Apparition abilities. Harry couldn't help feeling this was really pointless as he had side-along Apparated Dumbledore back to Hogsmeade almost two months ago, and that was supposed to be the hardest kind of Apparition there was.

Harry walked out of the test centre a few minutes later, also holding a license like Ron's. At least he was now able to do magic and Apparate legally. That was something. He couldn't get arrested now for things that wizards did every day.

"Excellent. We could Apparate back to the Burrow from here but you two need to go down and drop off those badges. Shall we take the lifts, or would you prefer to Apparate?" Mr. Weasley was smiling as though he already knew the answer.

Next moment, the three of them were standing in the atrium once more. Ron had Apparated a few feet from where he meant to, but thankfully all of his hair was still attached.

"Need to work on the accuracy just a bit," he said, his face tinged red.

The atrium had been far from empty when they had been down there before, but now it was crowded with people, and they were all hanging around the ruined found.

"What's going on there?" Ron asked.

"Dedication ceremony," explained Eric the security guard. "They're renaming the fountain."

"Really?" Harry asked interested. He now wished that he had read the plaque that was standing near the pool.

"Boys I think that we should go," Mr. Weasley suggested, but both Ron and Harry had joined the crowd of people waiting for the ceremony to start. They didn't have to wait long. Rufus Scrimgeour stepped up to a podium that had been erected just to the right of the new plaque.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming this afternoon. As you are no doubt aware, a great tragedy occurred on these very premises a little over a year ago. A noble and valiant man, fighting to protect one of our greatest heroes, sadly lost his life.

"This man, despite all the persecution he underwent, did not waver in his convictions. He stood up for his friends. He was willing to sacrifice his own life to protect his best friend, and his friend's wife and son from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I am speaking, ladies and gentlemen, of Sirius Black."

Harry felt his jaw drop.

"We dedicate this fountain to Sirius Black in the hope it will serve as a reminder just what it means to be courageous. Let us hope that this pool will be a beacon of strength in these hard times."

As he said these words, Harry saw Scrimgeour zero in on him. He wanted to get out of there that instant, because he was sure in about two seconds his name was going to come up. Unfortunately, he was not wrong.

"And here, to say a few words about this rededication is none other than Sirius' Black's godson, Harry Potter." He stretched out his hand in Harry's direction. The two hundred pairs of eyes in the crowd turned to stare at Harry. He didn't see them though because he was glaring daggers at the Minister.

This had been staged. This wasn't really a dedication for Sirius; it was a way to get him to cave about being the new mascot for the Ministry's war with Voldemort. Why else would the ministry even mention Sirius? Their treatment of Sirius's case had been a huge blunder from the start.

"Harry, come up and say a few words," Scrimgeour called. Harry was still glaring at him, but the minister wore a triumphant look. Harry was not going to cave into this. He had told Scrimgeour twice already that he didn't agree with the way the ministry was dealing with the Death Eater crisis. If the minister was going to pull nasty underhanded tricks like this, then Harry was just going to have to go on record with his views.

"I think I can say them just as well from here thanks," he replied coldly. The people that had been standing around him had backed away. There was now at least a five foot gap between he, Ron and Mr. Weasley, and the rest of the spectators. They had formed a circle around him, and Harry could see a few reporters, one surely from The Daily Prophet, frantically scribbling.

"This whole dedication ceremony is a ruse. Sirius has been dead for over a year. Why all of a sudden the need to dedicate a broken fountain to him? If you had bothered to do any research at all, you would know that this is the last thing that he would want. He wouldn't want to be honored by the Ministry that had sent him to Azkaban without even giving him a proper trial. He wouldn't want to be remembered for the fact that he was killed on your premises by a Death Eater that escaped prison because your predecessor -" Harry was staring right at Scrimgeour, "- didn't listen to Dumbledore when he warned Fudge that keeping the Dementors at Azkaban would lead to problems. And he certainly wouldn't appreciate the fact that you are doing all this on the day that I had to come to the ministry. Pretty coincidental timing I'd say.

"I know that you are doing this publicly so that I might feel some sort of obligation to be the new poster boy for the losing war that you're fighting with Voldemort –" there was a collective intake of breath, and a few people screamed, looking around nervously, as though expecting to see Voldemort there. "- and his Death Eaters. I'm sorry minister but imprisoning Stan Shunpike for making a stupid comment and letting real Death Eaters like Severus Snape run free isn't my idea of how to fight this war."

Scrimgeour was fuming, but trying to hide it. His sneaky little plan had backfired. Harry was quite certain that the minister had underestimated him. Harry didn't like publicity it was a well-known fact. Perhaps Scrimgeour had thought that Harry would go along with this little plan just so he could avoid the unending newsreel guaranteed to follow His refusal

"And you can quote me on that," Harry told the reporters. He knew that they would no matter what, he said it just to make a point to Scrimgeour. He wasn't some stupid little kid that could be manipulated. Having said everything that he was willing to say, Harry turned to Ron and Mr. Weasley and motioned for them that he was ready to leave.

They tried to get away from the crowds of people, so that they could Apparate, but everyone had swarmed in. The reporters in particular were quite pushy. They seemed to feel it was now free question period. They were firing questions at him. Questions about the night Dumbledore died, asking if he was really the Chosen one, and others Harry couldn't make out over all the noise.

Ron and Mr. Weasley were standing either side of Harry, acting almost like bodyguards, trying to get the people to back off, but to no avail. Finally, wanting to leave, and losing patience, Harry pulled out his wand.

"Back off, or I will curse you," he yelled. Stunned, they complied. Not sure how long they would stay away Harry seized the opportunity to focus his mind on his new destination. He twisted and a second later was feeling the effects of Apparition.

Dumbledore was right, Harry thought as he found himself facing the Burrow. Apparition wasn't bad, once you got used to the sensation. It was certainly a quick way to travel, and got him away from all of those people.

Harry barely had time to look up and smile at his second favorite place in the world when he heard a loud scream, he thought it was his name, but couldn't be sure. Next second, something ploughed into him. Not being ready for this, Harry fell over backwards, hitting his head on the ground. He must have hit his head fairly hard because he saw stars. Something landed on top of him.

"Oh my god Harry, are you OK?" Ginny asked frantically, getting off him. She had been what landed on top of him when he had fallen. She sounded really worried that she had hurt him. In a much better mood than he had been a moment previous Harry decided that he was going to play along. He didn't say anything when Ginny shook him. "MUM," Ginny screamed frantically when he still didn't respond to her.

Deciding that this had gone far enough (he didn't need Mrs. Weasley harassing him all night, making sure that he was feeling OK) Harry opened his eyes. Ginny wasn't looking at him. Even better he thought, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He slowly lifted his hands and began to tickle her. Ginny jumped at first, but she turned to look down at him and saw that his eyes were open.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry greeted her. She shocked him, not by laughing, but by punching him hard in the arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" he asked, massaging the place where she had hit him.

"For being a stupid prat," she responded angrily. "You scared me half to death I thought that I really hurt you."

"What Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley peaked her head out of the door.

"Nothing mum, Harry was just being an idiot."

"Sorry," Harry said, realizing, not for the first time, how much she looked like her mother when she was mad.

"Yeah, well you'd better be. Or else I might have to tell Fred and George about you. They're not very happy with a certain Mr. Potter these days?"

"What? Why?" Harry asked, wondering what on earth he could have done to deserve the twins' wrath. He made a mental note to double check everything he ate for concealed joke shop products.

"Well . . . as I am the youngest . . ." Ginny tried to act innocent. Harry couldn't help but laugh, she was about as innocent as Fred and George. "You're just going to have to watch your step, or I might have to start telling them . . . _things_."

Yes, that evil grin that she was wearing was proof to Harry that Ginny was as dangerous as Fred and George. She was able to get away with so much more than they were. Harry wondered whether he dared eat anything the whole time he was here.

Her anger completely gone Ginny leaned up to kiss Harry.

"Happy birthday," she said.

"It is now," he replied, hugging her close. It had been a month since he had that dream, yet Harry still could not get rid of the need to keep her close to him. Ginny didn't seem to have any objections, which was all the better for Harry. It wasn't until they heard two voices speak, that Harry and Ginny let go of each other.

"Welcome back Potter," Fred and George Weasley spoke, identical evil grins on their faces.


	10. 10 Something In The Air

CHAPTER TEN: SOMETHING IN THE AIR

Harry was worried about that look on the twins' faces. He had a horrible recollection of a dangerous looking instrument they had once threatened Zacharias Smith with. He barely contained his urge to swallow nervously.

"Gin go away for a minute, we'd like a word with young Harry here," Fred said. He and George stepped either side of Harry and made to start walking with him.

"Why?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms and looking at her two brothers.

"We need to have a little talk with the bloke that's dating our sister. Set the ground rules, you know," Fred explained. Both he had George still wore that evil grin.

"Right," Ginny's arms were still crossed and her eyes were narrowed. "I'll agree to this but –" she uncrossed her arms and reached in her pocket, pulling out her wand, "- If I hear you've done or said anything that I don't like –" she was holding her wand in her right hand and tapping it slowly in her left, " – I will have to hex you." The grin now on her face was just as evil as Fred and George's.

"Right-o," George said, Harry noticed the twins cringe as Ginny had threatened them.

"Well must get on, as we say, time is galleons," Fred said. He and George each grabbed one of Harry's arms and frog marched him away. They walked into the paddock, usually reserved for Quidditch games.

"We did want to have a little chat about that exhibition you and Ginny put on, at platform nine and three-quarters."

"Er . . . OK," Harry said slowly. He had entirely forgotten that all of Ginny's brothers had been there, and that it had been Fred and George that had shouted. They didn't look pleased Harry and the twins usually got on quite well, but would that still be the case if he was going out with their baby sister?

Fred and George glared at him for a moment, looking as though they were on the verge of hitting him. Harry, for the second time in three days, made ready to duck. Noticing this, the twin's grins returned.

"Don't worry Harry, we're not going to hurt you," George spoke first.

"Well, not yet anyway," Fred joked. "We just needed to show Ginny that we haven't forgot our brotherly duty."

Harry tried to smile, but thought it probably looked more like a grimace.

"She's done worse," George looked Harry over appraisingly as he said this. He pretended to grimace, "That Michael Corner idiot, sore loser at Quidditch," he really did grimace this time. "And Dean Thomas? What was she thinking?"

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "At least she's smartened up a bit," he turned to look at Harry. The same evil grin that spelled trouble was back. "You know, she's at least chosen _the hero_," He put particular emphasis on these last two words. Harry felt himself go red. He hated being called that. "Be that as it may, she is still our sister. No matter how great a bloke you are, if you hurt her we will have to kill you. No matter if you're the Chosen One or not."

"I'm not –" Harry started to tell them that he had no plans of hurting Ginny, but Fred held up his hand.

"You can't keep that promise so don't make it." He wasn't angry, but firm. "Mum and dad told us about how You-Know-Who knows about you and Ginny." For a moment both the twins looked uncharacteristically grave. "Ginny seems to like you a lot. So just make sure you don't do anything stupid, OK," Fred finished.

"I'll try."

The mood, which a moment before had been playful and cajoling, was now completely serious.

"Good, that's all we ask. The rest of your . . . er . . . problems Ginny can deal with." George quipped.

"Yeah, you don't ever want to be on the receiving end of one of her hexes, I can tell you," Fred joked.

The three of them had started making their way back to the house when a sudden snapping noise in the trees nearby caused them to stop. They drew their wands.

They crept stealthily towards the noise. Harry, heart thumping hard, was half-expecting to see a masked Death Eater pop out from one of the trees. What they found was not a Death Eater but Ron and Hermione, who were taking full advantage of their solitude.

"I don't believe it," Fred and George whispered in unison a second later. "Ron and Hermione?" they whispered together again, looking at each other shocked. They turned to look at Harry, who nodded, a smile on his face. He knew that this spelled trouble. The last people in the world that you would want to walk in on a scene like this were Fred and George Weasley.

"Well done Ron," the twins catcalled, whooping and cheering. Ron and Hermione broke apart, both red in the face again. If they got embarrassed when Ginny and I walked in on them, Harry thought, how are they going to handle the twins reactions? He chuckled as he thought of the inevitable pranks the twins were sure to play. Leaving his friends to fend for themselves Harry set off to find Ginny.

The repercussions were far worse than Harry would have thought. Bill had come across the twins, Ron and Hermione before they had left the patch of trees. He, Charlie and the twins teased Ron incessantly as they and Harry made a trip to Diagon Alley to pick up their dress robes for the wedding. Ron was seething with rage and embarrassment and kept telling them all to 'shut up.' This, of course, spurred them on.

Harry had to admit he felt little sympathy for Ron. He didn't join in the teasing, but he couldn't help but smirk when his friend started to get angry. Ron was a good target for jesting because he showed how much it bothered him. Harry tried to tell Ron this, but as he was obviously fighting back a laugh Ron didn't listen to him.

They got theirs though.

Walking into the house Bill was still ribbing Ron and said, "so . . .we're going to have some bushy little red-heads running around here soon, eh?"

"WHAT?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, dropping the armful of flowers that she had been carrying. "RONALD WEASLEY EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"

Ron glared at Bill as an irate Mrs. Weasley dragged him off to the house. Everyone, including Hermione and Ginny who had both just come outside, were laughing uproariously. Ron was probably being lectured in there on how irresponsible he was, even though he hadn't actually done anything wrong.

He appeared a few minutes later, looking extremely put upon. The laughter died away at once. He strode over to where his four brothers were sitting with Harry, Ginny and Hermione. Stopping in front of them he glared at Bill and the twins again.

"Thanks to you three -" he said pointing at each of them in turn, "- she's making dad and Lupin have a _talk_ with us. _All of us,_ including you, Harry,"

"Ah, well that should be . . . _educational_," Ginny replied, barely able to control her laughter. "You'll have to fill us in." She was looking at Harry, who had gone red when he realized what kind of talk Ron had meant. He wondered now why he had ever laughed at Ron's predicament.

"Mum is dragging Tonks in to talk to you two as well," Ron told Ginny and Hermione, a smug grin on his face. Ginny stopped laughing and groaned. Harry was quite sure that this was going to be the most embarrassing birthday of his life.

It was a good thing that Bill and Fleur's wedding was two days after Harry's birthday. If the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Lupin and Tonks hadn't been so busy they might all have sat in an embarrassed silence for the whole next day.

Fleur and her mother arrived at the Borrow at the crack of dawn. Mrs. Weasley's voice calling up the stairs for Ginny and Hermione woke the rest of the house shortly thereafter.

Never having been to a wedding Harry had no idea how much planning and preparation had to be done. He, all of the Weasleys, and the Delacours ran around the Burrow trying to put the finishing touches in place. Tempers among the bride and groom and their parents were hot, and more than once Fleur burst into hysterical tears and Bill stormed off.

Things were so chaotic it appeared nothing was getting done despite the constant activity. Mrs. Weasley was screaming continually for Ron, the twins and Harry to come and do this or that. Among other things they set up rows upon rows of folding chairs. As they did this Harry wondered if Fleur had invited all of France. There were enough chairs to fit the whole country. They didn't have to set up these chairs in the Muggle way; they were able to use magic. This should have saved a lot of time, but as Fred and George were there it didn't. They kept bewitching all of Ron's chairs to fold back up. It took him about fifteen minutes to discover the cause.

Ron, still angry and embarrassed about what the twins had walked in on the previous day, was on a short fuse. The twins' antics with the chairs finally pushed him over the edge. He rounded on Fred, his wand pointed at him and yelled, "LEVICORPUS."

Fred was instantly hanging upside down by his foot, clearly shocked that his younger brother had done this to him.

"Ron, let me down," Fred said, crossing his arms. He seemed completely relaxed, as though he were leaning against a wall.

"No, I don't think I will. You can just hang around for a while," Ron grinned. Fred and George were both silent for a minute, then they too broke into wide grins.

"Ron, we're so proud. We never would have expected this from you. We thought we'd lost you when you were made prefect. And yesterday when we found out about you and the Mrs., -" Fred and George were both giving their brother and impish grin, which widened when Ron blushed, "- we gave up all hope. But now here's ickle Ronniekins, finally showing his true Weasley colors."

Fred, who was still hanging upside down, held out his arms as though inviting Ron to hug him.

Harry laughed right along with them. He didn't even get angry at the fact that Ron had used a spell invented by the Half-Blood Prince, the foul, murdering, slimy git that called himself Severus Snape.

It was late when at last everything seemed to be prepared for the next day. Mrs. Weasley, who had collapsed into a chair looking completely exhausted, said, "that was more efficient than I thought. We made good time today everyone."

"Yeah, now all _we_ have to do is get married," Bill said from the doorway to the kitchen. He had his arm around Fleur and gave her a little squeeze as he talked. She had her head resting on his shoulder. She looked like she was going to drop from exhaustion.

Watching them standing there, Harry marveled at how good Bill and Fleur looked together. Yes, he thought smiling to himself, those red and gold haired children were definitely going to be cute. And seeing as Bill was a Weasley there was likely to be a lot of them.

"Well, I suppose we should all get to bed. Tomorrow is going to be another long day," Mrs. Weasley commented. She had a sad expression on her face. She sighed as she watched her eldest son walk his bride-to-be to the door(Fleur and her parents were staying at the inn in the village.)

No one objected to Mrs. Weasley's suggestion of bed. It really had been a long and tiring day.

Sleep eluded Harry for another night. He didn't feel depressed or anxious about the unknown road that was ahead of him. For the first time all summer he actually felt happy. He was back at the Borrow, he was with Ginny, everyone here was happy. They weren't worried about the horrors that the Death Eaters were perpetrating all over Britain. Yet, he couldn't sleep. He felt like he had forgot to do something.

After an hour of tossing and turning Harry finally gave up on the idea of sleep and decided to go downstairs and have a cup of tea. Getting carefully out of bed, so as not to wake Ron, Fred or George, Harry left the room and made his way downstairs.

He wasn't the only one that was having trouble sleeping it seemed.

When he entered the kitchen, Ginny was already there. She hadn't heard him come in. She was sitting in a position Harry knew well. Ginny had her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea with her head down. She appeared to be lost in thought.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Harry asked quietly, causing her to jump.

"God Harry, you scared me," she said, and then smiled. "No, but you try sleeping with Hermione up there prattling on about how beautiful and _romantic_ –" she grimaced, "- this wedding's going to be."

Harry laughed.

"You know I never would have taken Hermione to be some big romantic," Ginny continued.

"There's something in the air," Harry supplied, using the phrase he had heard Mrs. Delacour use earlier. Ginny raised an eyebrow quizzically. "So I hear," he added.

He sat down beside her at the table and stared into her cup of tea, not yet having made one for himself.

"So whose snores are keeping you up?"

"No one's actually, I just couldn't get to sleep," Harry explained. "Too much excitement today I guess." He didn't think he could put into words that nagging feeling of forgetting to do something.

Ginny snorted.

"Yeah, speak for yourself. I wouldn't call it exciting having to listen to Phlegm moan on and on to her mother in French. As if I can't understand her." It was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow. "OK so I can't," Ginny confessed, "but I got the gist anyway."

"Ah well, you should get used to Phl – er – Fleur. After tomorrow she'll be family," Harry joked backing away in case she felt the need to punch him again.

Ginny smiled, either at his remark or the fact that he was a little scared of her; Harry wasn't sure which.

"Tea?" she asked.

"Sure." Harry watched her get up and start making the tea. As she moved around the kitchen that same sense of needing to do something came back to him. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was though.

He didn't take his eyes off of her as she poured the water into the teapot. Something had just occurred to Harry. Ginny looked different. It wasn't a difference that he could put a finger on. She hadn't done anything different with her hair for instance. Well, it didn't look like she had done anyway, he never was good at spotting that sort of thing. No, as far as Harry could tell it definitely wasn't any physical change in her appearance.

Harry continued to watch her as she came and sat down beside him again. When she looked at him, he realized what it was. It was her eyes. They were usually full of mischief and playfulness, sometimes anger, and on rare occasions, fear. Never before had Harry seen sadness in her expression.

"Gin, what's wrong?" he asked quietly, taking the cup that she handed him.

"What?" she asked distractedly, not looking at him as she reached for the sugar bowl. "Nothing's wrong," she added a second later, still not meeting his gaze. The tone of her voice was the same as when she had tried to avoid telling him that Uncle Vernon blamed him for Aunt Marge's death. It was completely transparent. Things weren't fine. They were far from fine.

"Yes it is," Harry said, watching her add more sugar to her tea.

"I don't know where you got that idea. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Tomorrow's going to be great. I'm just a little tired from today, that's all," Ginny stated rapidly. More sugar found it's way into her cup. She still would not look at Harry.

"No it isn't," Harry said grabbing her hand, which was just about to add the eighth teaspoon of sugar to her tea. "Gin, you've just added a pound of sugar to your tea, and you're avoiding me. That's definitely not how someone acts when they're fine."

"I told you, I'm just tired," Ginny snapped as she turned even further away from him. When he tried to get her to talk to him again she stood up. "I'm going to bed," she said shortly and stormed from the room, leaving Harry sitting there wondering what he had done.

It was another busy day. From the minute Mrs. Weasley's cries reached their ears they were on the move. Harry was wrong in his belief that they had finished all the preparations for the wedding the day before. He didn't mind it that much, at least it kept him from dwelling incessantly on Ginny, and what he could have possibly done to make her so mad at him.

Harry wanted to talk to Hermione; she was always so much better at this relationship stuff than he was. She was busy running around for Fleur though, and didn't have a free moment to talk. When they passed on the stairs he made one mention of it.

"D'you know what's going on with Ginny?" he asked quickly and quietly. "Last night she –"

Hermione, who was making her way back up to Ginny's room (which had been commandeered as the Bride's room for the day) with their freshly pressed gowns looked at him pityingly for a minute. "Harry, you really are hopeless sometimes," she said before rushing off.

The wedding was taking place in the early afternoon. By one o'clock all of the men were dressed and were milling around in the kitchen or out in the yard. None of the women had made an appearance yet. Guests started to arrive shortly after one. Ron and the twins, who were acting as ushers, showed them to their seats.

Bill was pacing back and forth, looking pensive and nervous. He kept shooting worried glances at the house.

"You don't think that she's changed her mind, do you?" he asked the crowd of men more than once. Mr. Weasley would smile sympathetically when his eldest son did this.

"Wedding jitters," he explained to the other boys who were standing there looking at Bill as if he had gone mad. Mr. Weasley put his hand on Bill's shoulder. "Son, I'm sure everything's fine. Fleur's probably upstairs, worrying over the same thing." This didn't seem to comfort Bill. It was a great relief to everyone when Mrs. Weasley finally poked her head out of the door and said that it was time to start.

Harry found Hermione and they took their seats. Ron, Charlie, the twins and Ginny were all part of the wedding party.

"So can you tell me now what Ginny's problem is?' Harry asked his friend.

"No, actually I can't." Hermione wasn't looking at him, but around the yard, which had been transformed.

The house stood to their right, looking as magnificently crooked and ramshackle as it always had done. Otherwise the Burrow was unrecognizable. The garden that Harry liked so much because of its disorder was, for once, neatly trimmed. He couldn't see any garden gnomes poking their heads of the peony bushes. The grass was cut, and all the weeds had been pulled. The chickens that usually strayed around the yard at their leisure had been put in a coop.

The guests were sitting in the white folding chairs that Harry, Ron and the twins had set up the day before. Once they had been set up, Fleur and her mother had come out and bedecked the back of each chair with ribbons, and a single white rose (according to Hermione). At the front stood a white trellis, which had been covered in the same flowers as were on the chairs. In the middle of the chairs was the long white aisle down which the bridal party would walk. Harry thought this looked rather dangerous, walking down a thin piece of fabric. Wouldn't they be likely to trip? When he asked Hermione about this apparent lack of logic she impatiently said,

"Of course not. It's been enchanted with an anti-tripping charm," as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

The rest of their conversation was interrupted by the start of music. Over to the left of the makeshift altar a set of violins were playing of their own accord. This was the signal for the start of the ceremony. The crowd turned around in their seats.

Coming down the aisle was Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle. She was wearing robes made of a gold silk-like material. Her hair was pinned up in lavish curls, and she was carrying flowers that also matched the ones on the back of the chairs.

"Oh she looks so beautiful," Hermione gushed. Gabrielle walked slowly down the aisle in time to the music. She had almost reached the front when Harry saw another flash of gold.

Ginny stood at the start of the aisle. She looked amazing. She was wearing the same dress robes as Gabrielle, and was carrying the same flower arrangement. She too started to walk slowly down the aisle. Her expression was impassive and her eyes were darting around the attendees. Finally, she spotted Harry and a smile appeared on her face, albeit a sheepish one.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked so beautiful standing up there. Just now she was the only thing on his mind.

Everyone, including Harry turned a moment later to watch Fleur as she started to walk down the aisle. She looked pretty too, but Harry didn't really notice. He was too busy watching Ginny. She was rolling her eyes at the reaction some of the male guests were having to the bride.

It looked like Fleur (whether intentionally or not wasn't clear) had turned on her Veela charm. The reaction of some of the Weasley and the Delacour guests were quite amusing. One man, a guest of the Delacours had actually stood up and started dancing a crazy jig, obviously hoping to catch Fleur's attention. This was what had caused Ginny to roll her eyes.

Bill and Fleur smiled broadly at each other when they finally met at the altar.

"Welcome friends and family, to this blessed event," said their bonder.

Harry had been surprised to learn that wizards didn't have normal weddings like Muggles. They didn't exchange rings and say vows. Instead they had to touch their wands together. When Bill and Fleur did this a bright blue-white beam of light came from each wand.

"This shows the purity of your love," the bonder explained, smiling at the bride and groom. "The brighter it glows, the stronger your relationship is. This bond can only be broken by death, or loss of the love you share. From today going forward when you put your wands together you should see this light," he explained. "It makes you stronger, for we are always more powerful united than divided."

Harry stared at the two wands. This reminded him horribly of the beam of light that had connected his wand with Voldemort's that night in the graveyard. Realizing that something pure could share similarities with something so sinister was disturbing. This was apart from the revulsion he felt at sharing any connection with Voldemort at all.

The last part of the ceremony was the kiss. Harry and Ginny looked at each other again both with huge grins on their faces. Harry didn't know what Ginny was thinking, but it seemed obvious to him that both Bill and Fleur were enjoying this a little too much. Apparently wizards hadn't seen the need to do away with the most physical part of the marriage ceremony.

"It's not like that," Hermione said waspishly. She had asked Harry what he was grinning about, so he had told her. "It's the final part of the ceremony. It's required to complete the bonding and marriage," she recited quickly as though she were reading the information from a passage in a book, which was no doubt where she had got it.

"They're taking it really seriously," Harry joked. He looked at Ginny again. She was yawning widely and obviously. When she noticed that Harry was looking at her again she chanced another glance over at Bill and Fleur, who were still 'completing' the ceremony.

As the newlyweds didn't really show any sign of surfacing soon, chatter began to break out. Then people started to get out of their seats, and mill around, discussing the ceremony, and other current events.

As they stood up, Hermione excused herself and went to go find Ron. Harry and Ginny made their way over to each other.

"Hi," Harry said uncertainly. He still didn't know what he had done to make her angry with him the night before. They had seemed almost back to normal during the ceremony, but he wasn't sure how she was going to be with him now. He figured it would be better safe than sorry.

"Hi," she said. That same sheepish expression she had given him as she was walking down the aisle was back on her face. "Harry I –"

"Ginny, come here please," Mrs. Weasley called. Ginny rolled her eyes again and made a disgusted noise before she told Harry she'd be back. Her mother had called her over for pictures. Harry watched as more and more photos were taken, the air behind the camera tinged purple from the smoke that would appear after each flash.

Harry felt a little annoyed too. Ginny had something important to tell him. It seemed like every time someone wanted to tell him something major they were interrupted. He was seriously considering starting to give people a disclaimer whenever they tried to talk to him. '_Beware, if you have something momentous to say you are likely to be interrupted.'_

Harry and Ginny didn't get a chance to talk for several more hours. In fact, it wasn't until after dinner that they got within two-dozen feet of each other. Before the meal was served Ginny was being dragged around by her mother and introduced to the eight thousand people that seemed to be in the Burrow's garden. During dinner, Harry and Hermione were at a table together, while Ron and Ginny were at the head table with the rest of the bridal party.

Still feeling a little irritated at not having a chance to talk to Ginny all day, Harry didn't move from his table when the dancing started. He didn't really like to dance, so it wasn't that big a deal. Ginny, he could see, was standing over in a corner talking to the twins. She kept looking at him, but didn't come over.

Mrs. Weasley came over to the table where Harry was sitting alone.

"Enjoying yourself dear?" she asked taking a seat. She looked exhausted again. Harry shrugged and took another swig of the bottle of Butterbeer that he had been nursing for the past hour. Mrs. Weasley grabbed her own bottle off the table and opened it. She was watching Bill and Fleur. That same sad expression Harry had seen the night before was back on her face. She noticed Harry watching her, with concern in his eyes.

"Oh, it's nothing dear," she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "It's just, you all grew up so fast. It feels like yesterday that I was changing Bill's diapers, and now he's married." Mrs. Weasley smiled as she sniffed. She watched her son and his new wife for a few minutes. "They do look happy, don't they?" she asked, still in that same sad voice.

"Yeah they do," Harry agreed looking at the newlyweds. Bill and Fleur were completely absorbed in their own world. They didn't notice the jealous looks that they were getting from both men and women. Bill, despite the scar on his face from the werewolf bite, still attracted a lot of female attention. And of course Fleur with her Veela heritage garnered a lot of notice from males.

Mrs. Weasley stayed in her seat for a few more minutes, watching Bill and Fleur and Ron and Hermione. Harry had been quite surprised when Ron actually led her onto the dance floor. They were probably the worst dancers on the enchanted floor, but were enjoying themselves in spite of that. Harry noticed that Ginny was watching Ron and Hermione too. She was wearing a sad expression again. It was also one Harry had seen the night before.

Mrs. Weasley had spotted her daughter, and looked from her to Harry. "What are you doing sitting here?" she asked in a chastising voice. "Ginny's over there, you have to dance with her at a wedding."

"I . . . don't dance," Harry said quietly, looking away from both Weasley women.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Weasley said. She pulled Harry to his feet and, pulling him by the wrist, brought him over to where Ginny was standing. "You two have to dance," she told the pair of them. Standing behind Harry she pushed him a little closer to her daughter.

Harry looked at Ginny, holding out his hand a little reluctantly. Would she shun him? She didn't, she just nodded and put her hand in his. They walked out amid the other dancing couples. They didn't take their eyes off each other for a second.

As they started to dance they were a little awkward. Soon they were over that and seemed able to read each other's minds, they didn't have to speak. A few turns around the dance floor and they moved a little closer to each other. A few more turns, and a little closer. Soon they were wrapped tightly around the other, as though never wanting to let go again. Harry felt that way in any case, and from the way she was clinging to him, he was sure that Ginny felt the same.

When the song ended they left the floor and decided to take a walk around the yard. Harry and Ginny both knew that they needed to talk. Neither wanted to start. They were quite far away from the other guests at the wedding before Harry spoke up.

"Gin, what's wrong? Have I done something to make you mad?" She sighed as she looked at the ground. She didn't say anything for so long that Harry was sure he was going to have to ask her again.

"Yeah, you're you," she stated, raising her head to look at him. Harry noticed the sadness that he had seen in her expression last night was back yet again.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asked, crossing his arms. They had stopped walking.

"Well . . . like I said before. I knew that you were not going to be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort."

"And so now you're mad at me about that?" Harry asked in frustration. What was she playing at? At first she said she understood about Voldemort, and accepted what Harry told her. Then she said she didn't agree. Now she was back to her first position, but was still made. How did that work exactly?

"No, I'm not mad," Ginny answered quietly. "I – I'm scared," she admitted. When she uttered the last two words she looked away as though she was ashamed to allow herself to feel that way. Suddenly Harry knew what was wrong.

"Gin, I know it's scary. Voldemort's a scary guy. But please believe me when I tell you that we are doing everything to make sure that you're safe," he smiled, hoping that it would reassure her. Instead of looking relieved she let out a growl of frustration.

"Not for me, for you," she explained furiously. She was looking at him again and the fear and sadness that he had noticed in her eyes ever since he had arrived back at the Burrow was clearly evident there.

"Me? Why?"

"Oh come off it. Don't try and play innocent with me," Ginny snapped. "It's you Voldemort's really after." She looked away for a second and then at him again. Harry was shocked to see that her lip was trembling. He was sure she was about to cry, but was fighting it. "It's always you that he's been after. And now you're heading on a path straight for him. What's at the end of this?" She, like Ron weeks before, was asking a rhetorical question. She answered it herself. "One of you is going to end up dead by the other. That's why I'm scared. I don't want it to be you."

"Yeah, but . . . " Harry wasn't sure what he was going to say. She had just unwittingly said the words of that prophecy nearly verbatim. It threw him a little off to hear Ginny say something so near to what Trelawney said, especially given that the prophecy was largely responsible for his current course of action. "Its going to be OK," he said. He didn't even believe this himself. He wasn't sure how things with Voldemort were going to turn out. He still had three more Horcruxes to find and destroy before even considering facing that huge battle.

"No it isn't," Ginny said. She didn't look like she was going to cry anymore. She looked like she was starting to get angry. "Not for a long time anyway. You're going off on some mysterious quest to bring him down. Who knows what's going to happen to you along the way. And all you can say to me is to stay at home because I'm protected here." She was really angry now. She wasn't shouting, but her face was red.

"I can't take you with me," Harry said, also a little angry and annoyed. What was going on with her? She had told him that day on platform nine and three-quarters that she didn't want to go with him. Now she was mad about that very thing?

"That's not what I'm saying," she shot.

"So what exactly are you saying then?" Harry fired right back.

"I'm saying . . . I don't want you to go," Ginny said. From the look of shame on her face, Harry was quite certain that she knew he would go no matter what she said. Nevertheless he had to make sure that she understood,

"I couldn't do that. Even though I want to. I have things that I need to do."

"Yeah, these mysterious things," Ginny snorted quietly. Harry stared at her astonished. This was not the Ginny that he knew, the one that he had left down by the lake at Dumbledore's funeral.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked. "Why are you trying to make this hard on me?"

"This isn't just hard on you. Its hard on me too you know. Waiting here on pins and needles just to hear whether you're even still alive. How do you think that makes me feel? This isn't all about you Harry," Ginny said loudly. She had started walking back towards the house and the crowd of people.

"I never said that it was," Harry's voice was a little louder than hers had been a minute before. "But you make it sound like we're going to be out there having a brilliant time or something."

"No you're going out there trying to get yourself killed," Ginny shouted.

"No, I'm trying to prevent everyone else from getting killed," he shouted back at her. "Is that OK with you, or would you rather I just stayed here and waited for Voldemort to come and massacre us all?"

"That's a little overly dramatic," Ginny said, a little quieter than before, but still much louder than necessary given that they were standing a mere two feet apart.

"Really? The papers making it all up, are they?"

"Why does it have to be you?" Ginny asked frustrated. "Why not the Order? Or the Ministry?"

"It has to be me," Harry said, not able to meet her eyes. He knew she was going to ask why, and he couldn't tell her. "I have to be the one to finish him," he admitted in little more than a whisper.

"Why?"

"It just does. Don't ask me for more than that," Harry told her. He hoped that she would be satisfied with that information. He had a feeling she wouldn't be. And he was right.

"Yeah it's just this stupid saving people thing that you have again."

"No its not. There's a lot more to it, but I can't tell you." Harry really wanted to get off this topic of conversation. He figured she wouldn't take that statement well. He hadn't when he had been in that position. He had hated it when he was given tantalizing hints about what Ron and Hermione were doing during their fifth year when he was stuck at Privet Drive. Yet he felt if he tried to direct their talk to another topic Ginny might just explode.

"Fine, don't tell me!" Ginny cried in exasperation. "Just go and do whatever it is that you need to do. Don't let me keep you." She turned to go. Harry still wanted to know exactly what was going on with her. She was obviously scared. He didn't doubt that she was scared for him. But . . .

"Let go of me," Ginny said, struggling to get out of the grip Harry had on her wrist.

"No. Not until you tell me what's really wrong,"

"I've already told –"

"I want the truth not this selfish rubbish that you were just spouting," Harry told her, forcing her to look at him. Ginny defiantly closed her eyes so she didn't have to. "Ginny, you can talk to me."

She managed to wriggle free but didn't walk away.

"What exactly do you want me to say Harry? That its OK that you might get yourself killed? That this might get my brother and Hermione killed too? That you come back for two days and then don't even tell me that you're planning on leaving? Who knows when we'll even see each other again? Or did you really want to hear of how I'm scared to death of all of those things? Tell me what you want to hear?" she asked angrily, spouting all of these questions in rapid succession.

When Harry didn't say anything, Ginny just walked away. As she did he heard her say bitterly, "fine, I'll be your good little girl and stay here. You obviously don't trust me or think that I can take care of myself."

Harry watched her walk a few feet closer to the other guests.

"Is that what you think?" he called after her. "You're mad at me because you think I don't want you with me?" He caught up to her and planted himself in her path. "Gin, I want you with me more than anything. And I do trust you. But I promised Dumbledore that I would only tell Ron and Hermione. And with all the extra security around here it's where you're safest."

"Yeah, and what good's that going to do if you get killed?" she asked, crossing her arms, and looking annoyed.

Harry, annoyed himself that she still didn't get how important her safety was to him, ignored her question. More than ever he had that feeling that there was something that he was forgetting to do, and it was causing his frustration to increase.

"I don't care about me, I care about you. If anything happened to you because of me . . ."

"We've been over this," Ginny said wearily. "Harry, I don't get why you're

being –"

"Because I love you," he burst out suddenly. He hadn't meant to say it. He hadn't really even thought about it. As soon as the words were out of his mouth though, he knew they were right. He had also hit the nail on the head when it came to that thing he thought he was forgetting to do.

"What?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide.

"You heard me, I love you." How this confession had come so easy was as shocking to Harry as to Ginny.

"I . . .I love you too,' she said meekly, blushing, and looking at him shyly.

"AWWWWWWWW," a collective group said.

Then a woman with a heavy French access said, "see, zair is something in zee air, at zes weddings."


	11. 11 Goodbyes?

CHAPTER ELEVEN: GOODBYES?

Following their accidental public declarations, Harry and Ginny snuck away so they could have some time together. Why did they always have to do things in front of crowds of people? Their first kiss had been in front of all of Gryffindor house, then they shared one on platform nine and three-quarters in front of all her family, and now this? How did they time things so they were around crowds of people??

It was nearly dark when Harry and Ginny finally found a spare corner of yard no one else was in. They were in the paddock more commonly used for playing Quidditch, and they were quite alone. Harry smiled broadly when he though of the last time that he had been here and the scene that he, Fred and George had witnessed between Ron and Hermione. Perhaps he and Ginny . . . but right now they needed to talk.

Harry didn't know how Ginny found out that he, Ron and Hermione were going to be leaving the next day. It seemed logical that Hermione would have either told her, or let something slip, given that they shared a room. Harry hadn't been trying to hide this from her so he could sneak off before she woke up. He had just found it hard to tell her that they were leaving so soon after arriving. He didn't really want to tell her anyway, because he wanted to leave as much as she wanted him to go. Perhaps by not vocalizing this he could make it not true.

"Listen Gin, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that we're leaving tomorrow," he said. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, its just –"

"You didn't know how to say it," she supplied. Harry nodded. "Well, I can't say that I wasn't upset by it, but I understand . . . I guess. I'm sorry for before," she waved her hand in the general direction of the celebration that was still going on. "I really don't want to make this harder on you, I suppose I should have told you everything when you first got here. It's just . . . I was so glad to see you, and then that night Hermione said you guys were going to be leaving again so soon. We've hardly had any time together the whole time that you've been here."

"I know," Harry smiled at her again. Ginny appeared to be back to her normal self. He hadn't realized how different she had seemed just because she was trying to keep something from him. "But we're not leaving until the morning. That gives us –" he checked his watch by the light of his wand, " – I dunno, about eight hours. We can make the most of our time," he grinned roguishly at Ginny.

"Hopeless," Ginny sighed as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Is that really why you dragged me out here?"

"D'you really want me to answer that?" Harry asked, that same playful and suggestive smile on his face.

"Well . . ." Ginny looked like she was thinking about it. "Nah, that's just a waste of breath," she said moving closer so that she could run her fingers through his hair. She's right, Harry thought as he leaned down to kiss her. They could spend their time doing more worthwhile things than talking.

Morning came far too soon for both Harry and Ginny's liking. They had stayed up all night, reveling in the last few hours had together for who knew how long. Mrs. Weasley called them in to the house shortly after midnight. She reprimanded them for being out alone. Mrs. Weasley mentioned they were both in danger, but something in her voice said that she was more worried that they had been alone in the dark.

Not long after the first rays of sun started to peak over the horizon movement could be heard from the upper floors of the Burrow. Both Harry and Ginny, who were sitting in the living room, looked up. They had long ago ceased talking, and were leaning against each other, dozing.

"I guess that's mum," Ginny said, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "She's probably going to insist that you guys take all of the left over food from the wedding," She wore a sad smile.

"We're going to Grimmauld Place first," Harry said, also looking at the ceiling. "It's not like we are going on some unknown trek and won't be able to get food or anything."

"Yeah, but you know what mum's like. She's always trying for force a dozen helpings on everyone. She thinks we all have an appetite like Ron."

"Yeah, its fantastic," Harry said. He had always liked that about Mrs. Weasley. It wasn't that she would over feed him. It was the fact that she cared he got enough to eat. That was definitely something that he never got at the Dursleys. Harry was sure that his aunt and uncle hoped that if they kept him malnourished he would develop some horrible disease and die. Then maybe Aunt Petunia would have been able to keep the fact that her son was a wizard quiet for the rest of her life.

Harry hadn't thought at all of his aunt, uncle and cousin for the last three days. There had been too much else going on, with his birthday and the wedding. He hadn't told them that he was going to have to leave. How were they going to take staying in Grimmauld Place alone? Well, not exactly alone, there were still Order members coming and going all the time. However, they would definitely be more alone than they had been when Harry, Ron and Hermione had been there. It was still amusing to think that the Dursleys, the most dry and boring people in the world were now stuck living in a place that was the epitome of everything they despised. How was that for irony?

"I guess I should go and finish packing," Harry said reluctantly, looking at Ginny again. He had meant to do it the night before, but after everything that had happened it had not seemed that important.

"Yeah, I'll come and help you," Ginny offered. Thus, the two of them set off for the room that Harry was still sharing with Ron. The twins had left late the night before to return to their shop in Diagon Alley. When they entered the room Ron was being shaken awake by Hermione who looked fully alert. Ron was mumbling something about spiders and how they didn't want to give him back his broom.

"Hermione, you're being too nice," Ginny said, amusement evident in her voice. "I'll show you how to wake him up." She pulled out her wand, muttered "auguamenti" And a jet of water shot at Ron who jerked awake, and, sitting up, was greeted with a mouthful of water. Ginny discontinued the spell.

"What was that for?" Ron asked angrily.

"Time to get up sleepyhead," Ginny said innocently. Turning to Hermione she said, "I thought you would realize that trying to wake Ron is like trying to get my mother to stop worrying, it's nearly impossible to do. You have to be very forceful with him."

"Or try to drown me," Ron said grumpily as he started to untangle himself from the sheets.

"Well, you didn't respond when I tried to wake you," Hermione implored, "and we do really need to get going, I'm just glad that we were able to get everything packed last night."

"Yeah," Ron stifled a yawn. He didn't seem as glad of this as Hermione was.

"We really should get downstairs, your mum said that she was going to have breakfast ready shortly." Ron perked up at this news as he got out of bed.

"We'll be down in a bit, Harry still needs to pack," Ginny explained to the other two. Ron looked from her to Harry suspiciously. "Really Ron, your mind is always in the gutter." Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "I'm just going to help him, make it quicker you know."

Ron and Hermione left the room, and Ginny closed the door behind them.

"Good that gives us about ten minutes," she smiled mischievously.

Harry understood what she meant instantly. He had forgotten that he could use magic to pack. He waved his wand around the room and said 'pack.' His things began to fly into the rucksack he had brought with him two days before. They weren't neat in any sense of the word, but he didn't really care. Harry and Ginny spent the rest of their time more agreeably engaged.

An hour later Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the yard a few feet away from the house. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were there, along with Charlie, and Ginny.

"You make sure to be careful," Mrs. Weasley said in a stern voice, as she hugged each of them tightly.

"We will mum," Ron said. He was still ill tempered, and Harry agreed with Ginny when she stated that it was probably both from the way he had been awakened and because he suspected how she had Harry had really spent their ten minutes.

"Write if you can," Mrs. Weasley told them. They assured her that they would be in touch as much as possible.

"Ron did you remember to pack your -" Mrs. Weasley started. She had spent the whole of breakfast asking all three of them whether they had remembered to pack various articles. They had patiently told her they had packed everything.

"Yes mum, we've been through this already," Ron said impatiently.

"Well . . . all right then," she said in a defeated voice. She was wringing her hands as she backed away, and tears were glistening at the corners of her eyes. They hadn't told her specifics of what they were going to do, but these were dangerous times. The less she knew for sure, the better she would sleep.

"We really should get on, Lupin's waiting for us," Hermione said edgily, checking her watch. Harry gave Ginny one last hug, meaning to back away from her after that so that he, Ron and Hermione could Disapparate. But she wouldn't let go.

"Gin, c'mon, I have to go," he said quietly to her.

"I know, it's just . . ." she trailed off and was silent for a minute. Then she reluctantly let go. When Harry again tried to back away she kissed him, and it wasn't just a little peck either, it was full of passion. After another minute she pulled away again, whispering in his ear,

"Something to remember me by."

He certainly would, there was no doubt about that. The pair of them looked around. Harry looked a little embarrassed. He really wondered for the second time, why they seemed to only do these sorts of things in front of other people. Everyone else's mouth was open in shock.

"Er . . . I think it's time to go," Hermione said, breaking the silence after a few seconds.

"Uh, yeah," Harry agreed, letting go of Ginny completely.

They backed away from the Weasleys and made ready to Disapparate. Harry kept his eyes on Ginny, who was also watching him. He didn't like that look on her face. It wasn't sad or angry. She looked like she had made up her mind about something.

Remembering that he had to focus, Harry looked away from Ginny and turned his mind to where he wanted to go. A second later he had left behind the Burrow and was back in the rubbish strewn square called Grimmauld Place.

Ginny watched as Harry, Ron and Hermione hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs. Why they had to leave so early when they were just going back to Grimmauld Place seemed odd. Ginny was quite certain that Sirius's old house was not going to be their only destination that day.

Her mother was fretting incessantly. Ginny restrained herself from rolling her eyes, but it was difficult. She knew that her mother meant well, but sometimes her mollycoddling was a little too over the top. And it's going to be worse here because I'm the only one left here now. With Voldemort knowing about Harry and I she's going to make this place like a prison, Ginny thought miserably.

"We really should get on, Lupin's waiting for us," Hermione said, forcing Ginny's mind back to the present.

She didn't have much time to dwell on her own predicament at home, because Harry had come over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. She readily hugged him back. She didn't know when she was going to see him again. What if something horrible happened to him? Ginny knew that he was going to leave and that she couldn't stop him, but he was here with her now, and that was all that mattered. She wished that this moment could go on forever., but she could feel he was already starting to pull away.

"Gin, c'mon, I have to go."

"I know, it's just . . ." She wanted to tell him everything that she was feeling again, but they had talked about that already. And in any case she knew nothing she said would be able to make Harry stay. Well, at least she could make this goodbye a little more memorable than just a hug would supply. She let go of him so that she could grab his head. She kissed him, pouring every ounce of feeling that she had for him into it.

Ginny didn't care that her parents and Charlie were standing mere feet away. They had to realize that she wasn't a child anymore. And besides that, Harry was leaving. Her mother was worried about him, surely she could understand how Ginny felt.

In the silence that followed their goodbye, Ginny felt worse. Instead of being pacified she was even more concerned that her boyfriend, brother and good friend were leaving to pursue the most feared wizard ever. And making things worse was the fact that she didn't even know what they were going to do. Ginny didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.

In the fraction of time it took for Harry, Ron and Hermione to back away from the others so that they could Disapparate she had made up her mind. She knew what she wanted to do, she just needed to find a way to do it without her mother knowing.

Harry didn't have the time to worry about the look Ginny had worn just before he left. The moment they stepped over the threshold of number twelve Grimmauld Place their ears were assaulted with Mrs. Black's shrieking portrait.

"Seriously, I am so not going to miss that thing," Ron said. He and Hermione stayed back to relock the door while Harry dashed up the stairs to restore silence, wondering again how the portrait had been set off. There was no noise in the house to speak of.

"Oh, thank god," Dudley's voice carried up from the stairs that lead down to the kitchen. "That thing's been wailing for hours."

"So why didn't you shut it up?" Harry asked angrily. Dudley didn't answer him.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked, interjecting into what could have become a violent situation.

"Dunno. Well, mum and dad went out . . . said something about looking for somewhere more normal to stay. Went with that pink haired –"

"What do you mean they're looking for somewhere else to stay?" Harry asked. He thought it had been settled that the Dursleys were going to be staying at Grimmauld Place for the foreseeable future. What had suddenly changed that they were now looking for a new place to stay?

"Dad doesn't want to stay here anymore," Dudley said nonchalantly. "Said he needs to get back to the office or something, and he can't do that if he has to leave here everyday. I think the last straw was that night you tried to blow up the kitchen. Woke us all up that did. To tell the truth, it is kind of boring here. You don't even have a phone."

"Of course not. Those sorts of Muggle things don't work here," Harry said inattentively. Tonks had gone with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? Did this mean that Lupin thought it safe for them to leave? Or had he become that annoyed with them just this morning? "Where's Lupin?" he asked his cousin.

"That bloke with the grey hair? No idea, haven't seen him since before you left," Dudley supplied carelessly.

Lupin wasn't here? But he was the one that told Harry and the others to meet him at Grimmauld Place this morning.. What was going on? Was Lupin in trouble?

"He didn't leave a note or anything?" Harry asked looking at Ron and Hermione. They too were looking nervous and worried.

"Nothing," Dudley said again, as if he didn't care who came or went in the house. "So where's Ginny today?" he asked, showing interest for the first time since they had set foot in the house.

"She's at home," Harry answered, glaring at his cousin. Dudley's face fell.

"Oh, that's too bad. Cause I sure would have liked –"

"You don't want to finish that sentence," Hermione warned him. "Especially with her brother and boyfriend standing right here," she added, stepping in front of both Ron and Harry as she did so.

Dudley looked at Hermione while she was talking. When she had finished he gazed at Ron appraisingly. From the expression he was wearing he seemed to think that he could take him, but cringed when he looked at Harry, Who was disgusted and angry at Dudley's reaction to Ginny.

"Yeah . . . all right," he said, backing away a few steps.

"That's the smartest thing you've ever done," Ron said, his arms crossed.

"S – so are you guys going to teach me any more magic today?' Dudley asked hopefully, still looking nervously at Harry.

"No. We haven't got time to go over levitation with you another three thousand times," Harry said shortly as he pushed past his cousin and started up the stairs again, taking his bag to the room he and Ron were still sharing.

As Harry had told Ron and Hermione the day of Dumbledore's funeral, their first stop was going to be Godric's Hollow. Harry didn't know what he was hoping to find there, but he still believed he needed to go. If nothing else he would be able to see his parent's graves, this was something that he had wanted to do for as long as he could remember. Maybe it would give him a sense of peace about their deaths, that they were at least safe from Voldemort now.

The trouble was, he didn't even know where Godric's Hollow, and more specifically their house, was. This was the reason that he wanted to talk to Lupin. He was the only person left now, well other than Hagrid, Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort that knew where the Potters had lived. Lupin hadn't been the secret keeper so he wouldn't be able to tell Harry exactly where the house was, but he would be able to tell him where the village was. This was at least a start.

They didn't have to wait long for Lupin. Within an hour of their arrival he was back, with a very big excuse for his tardiness and it came in the form of Rubeus Hagrid.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione," he beamed at them as he entered the drawing room where they were all situated. "How're yeh?"

"Great," Harry said smiling at Hagrid. It wasn't the truth, but they were much better now he was here and they knew Lupin was OK.

""So you wanted to talk about Godric's Hollow Harry?" Lupin asked as they all sat down. He wasted no time with idle chat, something Harry was grateful for.

"Yeah, we're going there and we –"

"Why the ruddy hell would yeh want ter go there?" Hagrid asked loudly, looking at all three of them as if they were mad.

"Because its where my parents lived," Harry explained. "And I want to see their graves. I've never got to do that."

"WHY D'YOU WANT TO GO MESSIN' ABOUT WITH THE PAST?" Hagrid thundered, jumping to his feet and surprising the other four people in the room.

"Because I want answers. I need answers." Harry said firmly. "I asked Lupin here to tell me how to get there. That's supposed to be why he's here," he looked at Lupin a little suspiciously. Had the werewolf brought Hagrid here to try and talk Harry, Ron and Hermione out of making this trip?

"Hagrid's here because I thought he could help explain what you're going to see when you get there," it was Lupin's turn to explain. "Its not a pretty sight and we want to make sure you're prepared."

"What's makes it not a pretty sight?" Hermione asked nervously as she shuddered.

"Well, there was a battle and the house was all but destroyed. No one's been able to repair the damage that was done there, not that we really wanted to go back. All we did was get Lily, James and you out. Then we, or rather Dumbledore, enchanted the place so it remained exactly as it was the night of Voldemort's attack."

"Why would he do that?" Ron questioned. "Really, what purpose would that serve?"

Harry should have felt disgusted or angry that they hadn't even bothered to try and repair his parents' house. Instead he felt relieved. He was unsure of why his former mentor would have decided on such a thing; perhaps it was to study what had happened that night, maybe so Harry could go back and see the destruction for himself. There might be something there that would help in bringing down Voldemort. Whatever his reasoning Harry was immensely grateful to Dumbledore.

"So . . . how exactly do we get there?" he finally asked. This was the most pressing question; the other stuff they could philosophize on later.

"The village itself is in Wales," Lupin told them. He gave them more precise Apparition coordinates. "Quite a charming place really. The locals are always friendly, loved your mum before she and James went under the Fidelius charm."

"They'd been there before?" Harry was surprised. He had always thought his parents had come to live in Godric's Hollow when they had gone into hiding and after the charm had been cast.

"Yes. That was their – sorry – your house. Lily and James loved that village. They hadn't lived there for about a year when they were on the run. They both decided that if they had to be hidden that they might as well go back to their favorite house. Even in hiding they would have been happy there and I bet still be living in the same place, if Peter –" Lupin stopped, a look of fury in his eyes. He sighed, apparently trying to calm himself then continued, "James and Lily thought they would be safe there. Well that worked out brilliantly," he finished bitterly.

"Yeah, the filthy little turncoat," Hagrid roared. He was livid. Even so, Harry couldn't help smiling. Hagrid had once said nearly the same thing about Sirius. That had been during Harry's third year when everyone still believed he was a murdering traitor. "Wish I woulda stomped on 'im when he was in me hut," Hagrid growled.

"Yeah me too," Harry, Ron and Lupin stated in unison.

"So now we know how to get there, exactly what are we going to find?" Hermione inquired, looking at them disapprovingly. The mood had been lightened considerably when Harry, Ron and Lupin and realized they were of a like mind when it came to Peter Pettigrew.

"Well, its not really something we can put into words," Lupin replied. "I would venture to say that the best prose writer would have quite a job conveying the appalling scenes in that house." He stopped talking for a minute. Lupin was wearing the same pained expression as when Dumbledore and Sirius had died. "I suppose its nothing compared to some of the atrocities perpetrated by Voldemort and his followers, but to know the victims and that they died for such a stupid reason makes it a million times worse."

"Yeh've no idea," Hagrid agreed, looking sad. "Barely able to get you out I was. Probably wouldn'ta done had I not been . . . well . . . " Hagrid gestured to his huge frame blushing a little in embarrassment.

"Cheers Hagrid," Harry replied in appreciation for what the half-giant had done for him.

"Yeah, shoulda kept yeh meself tho', rather then give yeh to them Dursleys. Woulda done if Dumbledore hadn't said to send yeh to them." Hagrid was looking disgruntled as he said this, but smiled wickedly as he added, "but they got theirs didn' they? Ha, serves 'em right, treatin' Harry Potter like rubbish an' all."

"Hey, you got one on them with that tail though," Ron grinned. Hagrid looked at Lupin alarmed for a minute obviously fearing trouble for his illegal magic use, but Remus was smiling, that same mischievous grin, proving his marauder membership.

"A tail Hagrid, really?"

"Yeah, a curly pig's tail, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had to pay to have it removed surgically."

"Brilliant!"

"Is there anything else that you wanted to tell Harry about his parents house, or the village?' Hermione asked, checking her watch.

"No, I guess that's everything. Anything else that you wanted to add Hagrid?" Lupin asked.

"Nope, I guess tha's all."

"Well, we really should get on then. We don't want to get there when it's dark," Hermione said checking her watch again, rather nervously. She, Ron and Harry had been over this numerous times during the weeks before the wedding. Harry had told them that he didn't care what time it was, that once he got the exact location from Lupin he was leaving. The others had thought it best to go when it was light out. Hermione insisted that Voldemort might know that Harry would go to the village and have Death Eaters stationed there. In the end, when Harry became enraged they agreed to go along with him, no matter what.

"Yeah." Harry was itching to leave. He was so close to seeing the last place that he had lived with his parents. He couldn't honestly say that this was going to be a happy journey, but like he had been telling himself for a long time now, it was something that he needed to do. Even though he knew it was improbable, he was hoping that there would be someone there that would remember his parents.

Ron didn't even argue. He knew how important this was for Harry. The three of them trudged up to their rooms. They were going to have to repack their bags before they left. Who knew how long they were going to be gone, or what they might encounter along the way.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked around, taking in their new surroundings. They had left London hundreds of miles behind them. They were now standing on a hill looking down upon a breathtaking landscape. In front of them were rolling green hills, covered in large trees. Peaked roofs poked out from the trees at random intervals, and they could see a small white church steeple over to their right. Below the hill they were standing on, was a river, which was glistening gold in the early evening sun.

"You used to live here?" Hermione asked in an awed voice.

"Yeah," Harry replied, also looking around in amazement. He could now understand why his parents had decided to come back here when they went into hiding. That's probably what he would have done. This place seemed absolutely fantastic. It was the quintessential village, still with old-fashioned charm and beauty. The industrial revolution certainly hadn't had a visible impact on Godric's Hollow.

"I guess we should get to the town. We don't want to be walking through a forest in complete darkness," Hermione said, a little of her former nervousness coming back.

The three friends descended the hill and walked over the bridge. As they entered the village they were treated to closer looks at some of the houses. A lot of them were constructed similarly to the hut that Hagrid occupied on the Hogwarts grounds. Harry thought they would make very good full-scale models of Gingerbread houses in the winter. Many of the windows were thrown open, the smell of cooking dinners was wafting into the street.

They found the inn ten minutes after arriving in the village. It was a cozy looking establishment, even from the outside. The building itself looked as if it had been there for several centuries. The white stone was in sharp contrast to the brown frames holding in the mullioned windows, several of which were standing open. Harry was sure that this inn could have no more than a dozen guest rooms.

They entered the inn and found themselves in a dark, but welcoming pub. An elderly gentleman greeted them cheerily.

"Good evening, young sirs and miss. How are yeh this fine evening?"

"We're well, thank you," Harry replied. He was starting to feel more and more like he had traveled back a few centuries. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling either. "We were looking for rooms, do you have any vacancies?'

"We rightly do," the man's face split into an even wider smile than the one he had given them upon entering. "I reckon yeh'd be lookin' fer three rooms?"

"Yes, please," Harry answered. The innkeeper turned his back on them, to a board that held a dozen keys. He pulled three from their pegs and turned back to face them.

"Our three best rooms, facin' the water." He smiled brightly at them again.

"Thank you." Harry took the keys. Keeping one for himself, he gave the others to Ron and Hermione, then he pulled out some Muggle money, and made to pay for the rooms.

"No, no boy, we won't accept any money until yeh leave," The innkeeper stated. Harry's shock must have registered on his face because the innkeeper smiled.

"Works better fer us, me and the Mrs."

Harry thanked him again and stowed his money away. Yes, he thought, he was already growing to love this place. No one here knew him. Why would they? This village had nothing to do with the magical world. Harry was only famous around witches and wizards.

"Yeh'll be wantin' some dinner?"

"Er . . . " Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. Ron was all for this idea, not that Harry would have expected anything else.

"We don't want you to go to any trouble. We can just –" Hermione started, but the elderly man held up his hand.

"it's no trouble. We don't get a lot o' guests round here. Gives me and the Mrs summat teh do. THELMA." He called at the top of his voice.

"What Henry?" came a female voice from behind a slightly open heavy wood door. Next moment a stout woman with short grey hair came bustling out, drying her hands on a cloth as she did so. Her eyes fell on the three new arrivals and a huge smile appeared on her face as well.

"Oh guests, welcome."

"I'm just about to show 'em to their rooms, they were lookin' fer some supper," the man called Henry said.

"As long as it's no trouble," Hermione said again.

"Oh it's no trouble dears." Thelma smiled sweetly at them. She reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley.

"I'll just show 'em to their rooms, an' you can bring the food there," Henry informed his wife. The innkeepers waved away Harry, Ron and Hermione's protests about the trouble and then Henry showed the three of them to their rooms.

"Here yeh are," he said a moment later standing outside a door with the number one on it.

Harry had the key to this first room; he opened the door, which swung in to reveal a rustic décor, but one that was surprisingly up to date. The floor was a dark wood, as were the walls, making it feel like a log cabin. A patchwork quilt covered the bed, whose headboard and footboard were both made of thick wood spindles. Two nightstands were by the bed, one on either side. The one on the left held a telephone and lamp, while the one on the right only had a remote sitting on top of it. Harry noticed that sitting in a cabinet directly in front of the bed was a large television.

"I hope that these accommodations are to yer likin'," Henry said. "The other two rooms are attired similarly. I can show yeh to them now." He had turned to Ron and Hermione.

"No, thank you. We should be able to find our way," Hermione stated. Ron hadn't been listening to a word; he was walking around the room, taking in everything.

"Excellent. Thelma and I will bring yer food to yeh shortly." Henry gave them a curt bow and exited the room, shutting the door as he left.

"This place is brilliant." Ron collapsed on Harry's bed, examining the remote. "What is this?" he asked holding it up.

"A remote," Harry explained. Ron looked a little confused at the word. Harry took it from him and turned on the television. Ron's eyes opened wide in amazement. He leaned forward so Harry could show him how it worked. A few moments later Ron was busy channel surfing.

"Maybe dad has a point, some of this Muggle stuff is cool," he said.

"Really Ron, you can't tell me that in all your seventeen years you've never seen a television?" Hermione asked. She had sunk into one of the large high backed chairs that sat by the open window, and was reading a large book she had pulled out of her bag. Ron ignored her and kept changing channels.

Harry answered the door ten minutes later when there was a knock. On the other side stood Henry and Thelma, laden with two large trays of food and drink. Harry beckoned them in, and they laid out the food on the large circular oak table that sat between the two chairs by the window, one of which Hermione was just vacating.

"Thank you," Harry said again.

"It was no trouble at all," Thelma replied. She was still smiling warmly at them. They stood there for a moment, none of the five people speaking, and then she nudged her husband hard in the ribs.

"Ouch!" He rubbed the spot where she had jabbed him. Henry looked a little put out for a minute before he fixed a smile on his face. "I always forget me manners. We haven't been introduced. Henry and Thelma Clark." He pointed from himself to his wife as he said this. "And yeh are?"

"Hermione Granger -" Hermione held out her hand, which the two Clarks shook. "- and this is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."

At the mention of his name Harry thought he saw a flash of recognition in the elderly couple's eyes. But it must have been a trick of the light because next second they were shaking hands with both he and Ron, looking no different than they had before. Harry supposed he was just so used to people knowing who he was that he expected the recognition.

"It is getting late and I daresay after a day of traveling you three will want to freshen up and retire," Thelma said half an hour later. She and her husband had just returned to the room to collect the cleaned plates of delicious food. "Please let us know when you are ready for breakfast in the morning. Good night." With that she left the room. Ron and Hermione left shortly thereafter.

The room was completely dark, except for a few stray beams of moonlight coming in through the open drapery as Harry emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. Even after the invigorating effects of soap and shampoo his eyes were still itching with tiredness. He hadn't slept the night before, and didn't expect to get much sleep tonight either. Why should he, when he had been having trouble sleeping for the majority of the summer?

He slumped down into one of the chairs by the window and watched the beams of moonlight dancing across the water below. He had only been in this village for a few short hours, had only met two of its inhabitants, and hadn't even been to his former home or the graveyard where his parent's bodies had been laid to rest. Yet he still felt that this was home. He could see settling down here one day, if he could ever experience something akin to a normal life.

His thoughts strayed back to the task that was ahead of him. They had destroyed one Horcrux, Harry supposed he was happy about this, but the danger that still lay before them seemed to overshadow the small victory they had gained. No matter which way he now thought about it, Harry was certain that the locket had been the easiest. They hadn't even had to remove it from the place where Voldemort had left it. The removal was surely going to be the more difficult aspect of the Horcrux destruction, and there were at least two more of those left. He would do what he must though, at the very least so he could say that he had done everything to protect the world from t Voldemort's brand of evil.

That eerie connection that Harry had developed between the Horcruxes and Ginny in his thoughts returned. He started to think of Ginny. He really didn't like the look that she had on her face just before he had left that morning. An expression like that on the face of a Weasley usually meant that they were up to something, and it was rarely good. Harry really hoped Ginny didn't do anything stupid.

He didn't recall feeling sleep coming on, but he must have fallen into slumbers because the next thing he heard were noises outside his door, and then a sharp knock. Who could be calling at this hour? It was nearly one thirty, Harry noticed, looking at his watch. Maybe Hermione was right and Voldemort had stationed Death Eaters around Godric's Hollow and that's who was knocking. Harry contained his laughter, but barely. That was a stupid thought. If it was Death Eaters they surely wouldn't knock.

He was halfway to the door when the innkeeper's voice called out.

"Sorry to disturb yeh Mr. Potter, but there's someone here –" Harry opened the door, " – someone here requesting to see yeh," he finished, looking disheveled and a little annoyed at the disturbance. Harry looked behind him and saw Lupin standing there.

"I'm sorry to you both for the call at this late hour," Lupin sincerely apologized. "It couldn't be helped."

The last time that Lupin had barged in on Harry had been the night Voldemort had appeared at Privet Drive. Were they going to have to flee again? Lupin didn't seem as worried or in a rush, but he did look a little anxious.

"It's fine." Harry moved aside so Lupin could enter his room. As he did so he was apologizing to Mr. Clark for the disturbance as well. It was only when the old man turned to leave and Lupin started to walk in the room that Harry saw the real reason that Lupin had come this late at night. It didn't have anything to do with Death Eaters at all.

Ginny was following Lupin into the room.


	12. 12 Godric's Hollow

CHAPTER TWELVE: GODRIC'S HOLLOW

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked furiously, closing the door as he did so. Then he turned to look at Ginny.

"Lupin brought me," she said. Harry rounded on Remus Lupin angrily. What had he been thinking bringing her here? Harry thought that his father's best friend understood how he felt about Ginny, and that he didn't want her with him while he was on this dangerous journey. He didn't think he was in any real danger here in Godric's Hollow, but if Hermione was right, and Voldemort did have look outs posted around the village Ginny's coming here would be a certain indicator that they were together. This was the last thing that Harry wanted Voldemort to know. Had he been wrong to think Lupin knew all this?

"It was against my better inclination to bring her here," Lupin admitted. "But she showed up at Grimmauld Place, Harry. She knew that you, Ron and Hermione had come here, and threatened to set off on her own, she wasn't to be dissuaded. I assumed you would like this arrangement better."

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks Lupin," Harry said finally. He did appreciate that Lupin had at least come with Ginny, but that didn't change the fact that he was furious with her. Exactly what did she think that she was doing coming here in the first place, let alone in the middle of the night? Aside from the fact that her mother would flay them both alive, she could have been apprehended at any point. He said as much to Ginny, albeit in a furious manner.

"Please, Harry you're getting as paranoid as Moody." Ginny waved away his concern. "I'm not taking this thing lightly, but seriously, there aren't Death Eaters lurking around every corner. Have you seen any here today?"

"I'm going to leave you two to sort this out," Lupin said. With a small pop he Disapparated.

"I thought that you understood -" Harry growled through clenched teeth (if he opened his mouth he just might start shouting at her), "- why I didn't want you with us." He could feel the blood pulsating in his temples. He was beyond outraged. He had to work hard to restrain himself from shaking her. Ginny's spunk was one of the reasons that Harry loved her. But really, sometimes that got in the way of her sense.

"I just thought . . . " Ginny backed away several steps. She looked a little scared. Seeing her retreat like that caused Harry to calm down at once. She looked afraid of him, the last reaction Harry ever wanted Ginny to have to him. He sighed heavily; this was something else he seemed to be doing a lot lately.

Sitting down on the bed, Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, which were still itching due to lack of sleep. He didn't know what he was going to do now. They couldn't go back to the Burrow at this time of night, even if Ginny agreed. Ron was going to be furious when he found out that his sister was here, and when they did take her back, Mrs. Weasley was going to go berserk.

Ginny sat down beside him as she said, "Harry, I think that Hermione agrees with me. She was the one that left me the note telling me where you were going. And it's like we discussed before. I'm probably safer with you than at home. Snape . . . " She recoiled again when Harry rounded on her . ". . .well he knows about us. That's how Voldemort found out in the first place, I'm sure of it."

"I'm not having this conversation with you again," Harry responded wearily, making a mental note to talk to Hermione about her involvement in this. "It's too dangerous, and you'd be a target for sure if you came –"

"I don't want to come with you wherever else you're going. But I could at least be with you when you go to see your parents graves," Ginny replied, cutting across him. "Just for the few days that you're here," she added.

Harry remained silent for a little while as he thought about this. He was absolutely livid about what she had done. How many times had they had this same conversation? What was it going to take for Ginny to realize this wasn't a game? She was in more danger than he was, at least in the short term. The more time they spent together the more Voldemort could potentially learn. If he found out just how much Harry cared for Ginny, he would surely use all of his considerable power to get to her.

Harry wanted to have Ginny with him all the time, but knew it wasn't wise. She _might_ be safer with him than at the Burrow, but Harry doubted it. He had no idea of what lay ahead of them. Even if the living Voldemort didn't get Ginny, she might be injured during one of their attempts to destroy a Horcrux. To Harry that would be as bad or worse than Voldemort getting her.

Calming down a little, Harry glanced at Ginny who was watching him curiously. He couldn't do anything about her being here tonight. Truth be told, he was happy to have her near him, even if he was still upset at her for the stupid stunt she had just pulled.

"What am I going to do with you?" Harry asked, not really expecting an answer as he pulled her close to him.

"Love me," Ginny replied cheekily, as she snuggled close. Yet again, they delighted in the fact that they could be close to each other. Even though it sometimes felt like a lifetime they hadn't really spent that much time apart. Three weeks wasn't a lifetime, although it certainly had felt like it when cooped up in Grimmauld Place. And there was still the fact that their future was uncertain. Thus, it was nice just to be able to enjoy the little time they had together, even if Harry was apoplectic at Ginny's total disregard for her own safety.

"Does your mum know you're here?" Harry inquired after a while.

"Er . . . not here exactly, but she knows I'm with you guys. I left her a note."

"Oh God," Harry leaned his head back as scenarios started to run through his mind. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were not going to be pleased that their sixteen year old daughter had run away from home, especially when it was to be with her boyfriend. They would be even less pleased that she chose to do it in times as dangerous as these. Harry was sure they were going to have a few choice words for him too. He hoped that unpleasant words were the only things they were going to have.

"Don't worry, mum loves you. She won't fly too off the handle."

"I doubt that," Harry stated, not letting go of Ginny. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked again, more to himself than to Ginny.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had no idea how long they were going to be here in Godric's Hollow. Ginny was certainly going to want to stay here the whole time. It wouldn't be wise to have her come with them, just in case Hermione was right about the Death Eaters. Harry briefly thought about telling Ginny that she had to stay in the room when they went out, but knew that would not go over with her. In the end he decided that they would just have to make the best of it. Maybe she would agree to wear the invisibility cloak or something.

"I can think of a few things," Ginny suggested. It was too dark in the room to see her face, but Harry was quite certain she was smiling broadly. It didn't take much to persuade him that they were done talking.

Harry woke up the next morning and was momentarily sure he was still dreaming. He wasn't alone in his bed. Ginny was sprawled out beside him, her arm draped lazily over his chest. They had both fallen asleep, not even bothering to change. Harry had to admit that he liked waking up like this. He could do without sleeping in his clothes, but having Ginny there was fantastic. Not wanting to wake her, he lay there and watched her sleep.

A knock on the door about ten minutes later meant Harry had to move, and Ginny stirred.

"Whozair?" she asked, lifting her head, her face hidden behind a curtain of red locks.

"Dunno." Harry got off the bed and went to answer the door. On the other side was Hermione.

"Harry, we figured that we'd get start –" Hermione stopped talking after taking only a few steps into the room and spotting Ginny facedown on the bed. "What's she doing here?" She looked at Harry suspiciously.

"She showed up here at one thirty this morning. Lupin brought her. Apparently she had gone to Grimmauld Place and ordered him to bring her here, or she was going to set out on her own," Harry explained in the same quiet voice that Hermione had just used. Then, remembering what Ginny had said the night before he added, "besides I should be the one asking you that. What were you thinking, telling her where we were going."

Hermione blushed and looked away with a guilty expression on her face. She didn't answer Harry's question. Instead she said, "that was really dangerous." Hermione looked scared at Ginny's daring. "I mean with You-know . . V -Voldemort out there she could have been –"

"I know. That's what I told her," Harry said. "You should have known that she might do something like this if you let her know where we were going."

"Are you trying to say this is all my fault?' Hermione hissed. Harry didn't answer but she seemed to get the point nonetheless. "I just wrote her that note to let her know that we weren't going anywhere dangerous. Harry you have to know how hard this is on her. I mean . . . " What Hermione meant Harry didn't hear. He put up his hand to silence her.

"It's fine. I don't really blame you. You were doing what you thought was best. I just . . ." He turned to look at Ginny, who was still very much asleep. "Mr and Mrs Weasley are going to go mad," he said, again to himself.

"Ron is going to flip when he sees her here. Especially like that." Hermione gestured to where Ginny was still sprawled out on Harry's bed.

"Why? It's not like we did anything," Harry said, knowing that wouldn't matter at all. Hermione was absolutely right. Ron was going to blow a fuse at this whole situation. Even if they could have thought of a more innocent reason for Ginny to be here, and in Harry's bed, they wouldn't have had time to put it into action. Ron had exited his room and came over to where Harry and Hermione were standing in the doorway to room number one.

"Why're you both standing here? Shouldn't we go inside?" he asked.

"Yes, we will Ron. But there's something that you should know first," Hermione started timidly. If she had been able to prepare Ron for what he would see things might have been a little less noisy, but she wasn't quick enough.

"Ginny?" Ron asked as he took a few steps closer to the doorway, so he could see into the room. At first he didn't say anything else, but looked at her in shock. That soon passed and he was looking angrily at Harry as he shouted, "GINNY WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Bloody hell!" Ginny sat bolt upright, pushing her hair out of her face as she did so. "Ron, what are you shouting about?"

"YOU . . . HERE . . . AND WITH HARRY!" Ron was still red with anger, and shouting at a volume that would make Uncle Vernon proud.

"Ron, keep your voice down," Hermione reprimanded, pushing him into the room so that she could close the door. The very last thing they needed was for Mr. And Mrs. Clark to hear all this shouting and have to make another trip up here.

"I WILL NOT. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT SHE'S DOING HERE, IN HIS BED."

"Nothing, she just showed up here last night, and we fell asleep together," Harry explained. If this was how Ron was taking this, Mrs. Weasley in particular was someone that Harry really was not keen on meeting in the near future.

"You sure about that?" Ron was still looking at Harry angrily. The expression on his face was of utter disbelief. He was obviously of the mind that things were not as innocent as they proclaimed.

"Yes he is." Ginny, still a little bleary eyed, had crawled out of the bed and was looking at her brother with annoyance on her face. "But even if we had done more that's really none of your business."

"The hell it isn't," Ron stated hotly, although he had stopped shouting. "You're my sister. What you get up to with him is certainly my business. D'you really think that I want people calling you a scarlet woman?"

Everyone but Ron snorted at the question.

"Please, you've been around mum way too long," Ginny choked through fits of laughter. "That term is more archaic than the pyramids. And it's not like that anymore anyway. You know it's not. If it were surely you would act differently with Hermione."

Ron, however, was not to be dissuaded from his argument.

"It's different with blokes. Anyway I don't care how old the word is. I don't want it being thrown about that you two are . . . are . . . " He didn't seem able to say exactly what they were.

"What Ron?" Ginny had her familiar evil grin on again. She watched in amusement while her brother turned a deep shade of scarlet, but wouldn't utter what their terrible crime was supposed to have been.

"What are you doing here anyway?" he finally fired at Ginny. "Mum can't've been OK with this."

"I don't suppose she was, no. But I didn't see her before I left," Ginny replied, looking slightly guilty for the first time.

"You didn't tell her that you were coming?" Ron looked shocked as he stared at his sister.

"I left her a letter." Ginny shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor. "But," she suddenly looked up defiantly, and was speaking in a defensive tone, "I had to come. She would never have understood, so I was left with no choice."

"What exactly does that mean? You were left with no choice?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. He was looking at her suspiciously. Harry was sure that Ron was starting to think that he and Ginny had cooked this whole thing up.

"Ron, come on, surely you can understand how she feels. You were the one that told Harry that we were going to come with him looking for the Hor –" Hermione looked horrified at her near slip about the Horcruxes. Harry and Ron snapped their heads in her direction quickly. She had covered her mouth with her hands. Her face had gone red with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she said in a whisper, looking at Harry.

Ginny's head was swiveling between her brother, Harry and Hermione. She had that same look as she had worn back on the train when she was trying to place the locket. In this case though Harry was quite sure that she wouldn't know what Hermione had almost said. Not that he even wanted her to know the term, but hearing the word Horcrux probably wouldn't give Ginny a whole lot more information anyway.

"I . . . I think that maybe we should get some breakfast," Hermione stated clearly doing so to take everyone's minds off her blunder.. She walked over to the telephone to call down and order the food, as they had been instructed the night before. Harry was glad that she had suggested it. Food was the best way to get out of the awkward moment that they had found themselves in.

The food arrived about a half hour after Hermione placed her call. It was a great relief to the four of them. Ron had been torn between complaining about his hunger again and shooting disgruntled looks at Harry and Ginny, who were snuggled together in the chair that Harry had fallen asleep in the night before, as he lay on Harry's bed, flipping through channels on the television,. Hermione had sunk into the chair across from them and buried her still pink face in the book she had been reading the night before.

"Can we get anything else for you?" Thelma asked the four teens as the last plates of food were put on the table. Harry, Ron and Ginny shook their heads. Hermione hesitated for a minute and then she spoke up.

"Yes, can you tell us where the cemetery is around here?"

Henry and Thelma looked at each other, and then the former spoke up to give them directions.

"Why d'yeh want ter go there?" Henry asked politely. Hermione hesitated again before she explained.

"We came because my friend's parents are buried there." She gestured to Harry. "He'd like to visit their graves."

Both the innkeeper and his wife turned to look at Harry. Whereas the night before Harry thought he was imagining it, this morning he was quite certain that there was a tiny flicker of recognition in Henry Clark's eyes.

"We don' get a lot o' strange folks around these parts," he said. He was squinting now as though thinking hard. Henry still wore that same look of recognition, however he didn't seem to have narrowed down exactly how he knew Harry. "It's odds on I knew yer parents. What were their names?"

"Lily and James Potter," Harry supplied, feeling a new surge of excitement. By coming here, he was hoping to meet people that had known his parents. Before that talk with Lupin this had been a very small hope indeed. After learning that his parents had lived here before going into hiding, he had felt that desire even more profoundly. Now, being in Godric's Hollow after so long, and in the presence of someone that might actually have known Lily and James was causing his level of anticipation to increase tenfold.

Thelma looked at her husband who was rubbing his chin, clearly searching his mind. He was muttering under his breath, "Potter . . . Potter . . ." He did this for so long that the expectant feeling that Harry had, started to ebb away.

Still muttering to himself the innkeeper looked at Harry again. It was like a light bulb had clicked on in his brain.

"O' course. I though' yeh seemed familiar las' nigh', 'specially when I heard that name. Now I think 'bout it, I feel stupid that I didn' know the minute yeh walked in here. Yeh look exactly like 'im, 'cept yeh have her eyes."

Harry was now sitting on the edge of his seat, Ginny perched on the arm of the chair He had heard this exact phrase ad nauseam. If he had a galleon for every time he had heard that, he would be richer than Gringotts. Yet he was still excited. Here was someone that he had never met before that knew his parents. What would Harry be able to learn from the innkeeper?

"Nice young couple they was, remember the Potters Thelma?" His wife thought for a moment and then nodded her head.

"Yes, they were so sweet, and their son was the cutest little guy. Was that you?" she asked looking at Harry. He nodded. "Come to think of it, you two remind me a lot of them," she smiled at Harry and Ginny. They exchanged a quick look, also wearing smiles. Then they turned their attention back to the elderly couple.

"They was here for the longest time, then one day they jus' up and disappeared. No idea where they went. No one else in the village knew neither. They didn' seem like the type that would just move out in the middle o' the nigh'. And even if they had done there surely would have been someone seen them leave. That's one o' the great mysteries round here. People still wonder what happened to 'em.

"Very strange their leaving was, I tell yeh. Never did get any answers on that one. But we wonder if they was runnin' from summat 'cause week after they disappeared I was out late in the evenin' and saw this tall pale bloke headin' in the direction of their house. Scary looking he was," Henry shuddered. Harry understood. He could only be talking about Voldemort, who was quite scary looking, even for wizards, so he certainly would be to a Muggle.

"Very odd lookin'. He was wearin' a dark cloak and had his hood up, but I tell yeh it looked like he had no nose," the elderly man shuddered again. "Must've been a trick of the light, it was quite late. Anyway, dunno what exactly happened, but next thing we knew there was a huge explosion and their house was in ruins."

Henry Clark looked at the four teens and then at his wife. He had more to say, but was debating about whether he could trust them or not. He must have decided that he could trust them because he started to speak again.

"Strange nigh' tha' was. After tha' huge explosion is where things get even more dodgy. We all heard the explosion all righ', shook the whole village it did. We was all goin' to find where it came from. I was one o' the firs' to their house, well it's righ' near here." He waved his hand vaguely to his left. "Saw this huge bloke commin' outta their house, tha's when I firs' saw it in ruins. Wasn' sure about tha' giant so I hid in the trees. And tha's when . . ." he trailed off for a minute and looked nervously at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny again. "Now don' think I'm a nutter or nothin' bu' I swear I saw a huge motorbike fall outta the sky."

Henry looked from Harry to the others a defiant look on his face. He seemed to be waiting for them to burst out laughing or roll their eyes at the absurdity of this statement. When they said nothing, he continued.

"Well, took me a mo' to recognize the bloke on the motorbike. He was a friend o' the young Mr. Potter. Seen 'em both round here all the time. It was the dark haired, good-lookin' one," Mr. Clark looked at his wife. "At leas' Thelma here though' he was."

"And?" Harry asked. He knew most of this already from things that he had learned from Hagrid and during conversations that he had overheard in the Three Broomsticks during his third year. Nonetheless he was fascinated to hear it again, especially because he might be able to learn something new.

"Well, the young 'un and the giant bloke were havin' summat of a discussion, arguin' more like. Couldn' hear what it was abou'. After a while the big bloke, who's carryin' summat by the way, gets on the motorbike and takes off. The young bloke disappeared into the ruins. I dunno what happened after 'cause I returned home. Strange 'eh?"

No one said anything.

"It was a few days after tha' when James and Lily Potter was buried in the cemetery. No one even knew they was still in the village," Henry said with finality. "Sad that was, them dyin'. Like I said, nicer people yeh don' often find."

Again the room was silent. No one seemed to know what to say.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Thelma replied looking at Harry with sadness in her eyes. "That must have been hard growing up without them."

"Yeah," Harry said in a quiet voice. Yes it had been hard, having to live with the Dursleys and put up with their fear of anything that wasn't the driest and most normal thing in the world. But like he had told Ginny all those weeks ago, he had done all right for himself, at least he thought he had.

"Well, we'll leave yeh to enjoy yer nosh. Anythin' else just give us a holler." With those words the two Clarks backed out of the room and closed the door.

"You know I'm surprised that the ministry didn't modify his memory," Hermione said a few minutes later as the four of them sat munching on the food that had been brought to them. "I guess in the aftermath of You-Know-Who's demise they overlooked it."

"Idiots," Harry muttered. It was the sort of thing that the ministry did. They would have been too busy taking credit for something they had nothing to do with than making sure that Muggles didn't have memories of events like that. In this case it worked out in Harry's favor, but his less than pleasant feelings towards Fudge and Scrimgeour didn't predispose him to be understanding of these bureaucratic errors.

They said very little as they ate their breakfast. The recounting of the night Harry's parents had died, coupled with the fact that they were going to be visiting their graves that very day, caused a somber mood to fall over all four teens. They stood up silently thereafter to go and get ready to take this sad journey. Ginny absolutely refused to stay behind, or wear the invisibility cloak.

Silence prevailed while making ready to leave. They knew where they were going. They had got directions from Henry Clark just that morning after all. Walking outside they started down the street that was directly in front of the inn. They could see the small white church a little ways off in the distance, coming in and out of their sight, hidden every now and again by a thick tree.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione walked down a street lined with more Gingerbread style houses. Harry was again thinking of how much he could enjoy living here as the few people that they passed on the street greeted them cheerfully.

The church was smaller than it had looked the night before when they had stood on the hill across the bridge. Even so, it was a charming sight. It was painted all white, and there were stained glass windows on either side. A path of small, circular stepping-stones lead up to the two thick wooden doors that were standing closed at the moment. Over to the left of the entrance was the graveyard. They could see headstones through the wrought iron fence.

Entering the churchyard they walked up and down the aisles of graves, looking for Harry's parents. They found them a few moments later, in the very center row of graves. Harry was actually surprised to see that there were fresh flowers here. He wondered who might have brought them. Surely it wasn't one of the villagers. They seemed nice enough, but to place flowers at the graves of people they didn't even know, that was unlikely.

"Lupin must have stopped here last night when he left," Hermione said quietly, as she noticed where Harry was looking. Yes, that was definitely the more logical conclusion.

That small mystery solved, Harry took a good look at the headstones in front of him. They weren't fancy, just typical curved stone, identical to the last, except for the writing. He leaned down to inspect the inscriptions. The one on Harry's left said:

James Potter

April 11, 1959 – October 31, 1981

Loving husband and Father

R.I.P

The one to Harry's right read:

Lily Evans-Potter

August 22, 1959 – October 31, 1981

Loving Wife and Mother

R.I.P

That was it. That was all that was left of his parents; their names, dates of birth and death engraved into cold bits of stone. Somehow the flowers that Lupin had left didn't seem as touching now. What was the point? Lily and James weren't there to enjoy them. All the flowers were going to do was die and decay. Harry couldn't help it, he started to feel a prickling at the corner of his eyes. He blinked trying to stop the tears from falling. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all, coming here.

As he knelt there fighting back the repulsive urge to cry, he started to have rapid flashbacks of all the times he had seen his parents. It was the same sort of feeling like he had during Occlumency lessons. There were his parents smiling sadly at him from the mirror of Erised, they were waving from the picture of the original order of the phoenix, and from the photos in the book Hagrid had given Harry. There they were always smiling. But those weren't the only memories that Harry had of his parents.

Suddenly, flooding back to the forefront of Harry's mind were the things that he had spent much of his third year hearing every time he got close to a Dementor.

"_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --"_

He could hear his father too, almost at the same time.

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"_

His eyes were still turned towards the gravestones of his parents, but Harry wasn't really seeing them anymore. His grief was starting to turn to anger. Voldemort, almost everything that had happened to Harry throughout his life could be traced back to the Dark Lord. He had no parents, no godfather, no mentor anymore, they were all dead trying to protect Harry. He had to leave the one place that had felt like home to him because he needed to track down Horcruxes. He had to stay away from Ginny so that she wouldn't succumb to the fate that everyone else in his life seemed to.

Harry had a sudden strong urge to scream as loud as he could. And again he had that same childish thought about how unfair this was. Not for the first time in his life, but for the first time since just after Sirius died, Harry had the urge to run, and keep on running. He really wished that he could be anyone else but Harry Potter right now. But of course, that wouldn't happen, and he knew that he could never live with himself if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get rid of Voldemort.

"Are you OK Harry?" Ginny asked, leaning down beside him and putting her hand on his back in a comforting gesture.

"I'm fine," he said, anger causing his voice to shake. He stood up, brushing dirt of his jeans and hands. He had come to see his parents' graves. That was done. He wanted to go and see their ruined house and then get the hell out of here. In the course of five minutes Godric's Hollow had lost its charm.

"You sure you're all right?" Ron asked a little nervously. He and Hermione were standing a few feet away.

"Fine," Harry repeated through clenched teeth. He was a lot calmer than he had been before, but he still had the slight urge to scream.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and the four of them started to make their way back out of the churchyard. Near the entrance a small popping sound caused them all to jump, and rapidly draw their wands.

The new arrival looked stunned for a minute at such a greeting. He was a tall, gangling man with blond hair and grey eyes, which at the moment were alive with excitement. When he noticed their wands he smiled rather nervously and held up an acid green quill. Ron, Ginny and Hermione all groaned. Harry said nothing. He glared at the reporter that had just appeared in their path.

"Mr. Potter, Andrew Morris, Prophet reporter." As he said this he stuck out his hand. None of them took it, so he withdrew it and started talking. "So visiting your parents graves, Mr. Potter. Is this the first time that you've been to see them?"

"Shove off," Ron barked at him. He strode forward and pushed the reporter out of the way so that they could continue walking. The reporter seemed taken aback for a second, but then started to follow them, firing questions all the while.

"Would you like to comment on your experiences here today? Care to comment on how you think the war's going? Could you share any ideas of what You-Know-Who's up to? Would you like to give us a comment on the ever-elusive Severus Snape?"

Harry ignored the first three questions. He certainly was not going to tell anyone about his experiences at his parent's graves. He had already commented on how badly the ministry was handling the war. He could care less what Voldemort was up to, as long as he was staying away from Harry, Ginny, and everyone else that Harry cared about. It was the last question that caused him to spin around so fast that the Daily Prophet reporter recoiled in fright, nearly knocking his Quick-quotes quill out of the air where it was scribbling madly as it floated along beside him.

Harry was already angry from his experiences at the grave, and having Snape's name thrown at him was not a good mixture. He advanced on the reporter until they were mere inches apart.

"SNAPE'S NOTHING BUT A MURDERER AND A COWARD WHO'S BEING SHIELDED BY VOLDEMORT," he roared, ignoring the flinches from Ron and the reporter at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "AS FOR HIS MATE VOLDEMORT, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT HE'S UP TO. EVERYONE PLAYS INTO HIS HANDS BY BEING AFRAID TO SAY _VOLDEMORT'S_ NAME." Harry said this name very slowly. "HE DESERVES NONE OF IT. ALL _VOLDEMORT_ -" he emphasized this name again, "- HAS EVER BEEN IS A BULLY, EVEN WHEN HE WAS A KID AND WAS STILL KNOWN BY HIS PROPER NAME - _TOM RIDDLE_." He didn't shout his next words. "He changed his name because he was ashamed to be a half-blood. Did you know that?"

Harry had shouted so loud that his throat felt a little raw. It had been completely unnecessary to be that loud, but he was in such a temper given what he had just been though, that he didn't care. And the mention of Snape had made him lose the little bit of self-control that he had managed to gain. He thought right afterwards that it probably wasn't wise to spout Voldemort's true identity. What damage this would do he wasn't sure. But it was too late to take it back now. And if he really thought about it, he didn't want to. Maybe if the wide world knew who Voldemort really was they would stop fearing him so much. As Dumbledore always said, "fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself." No one had feared to say Tom Riddle as far as Harry knew.

Having said all that he wanted to the reporter, and perhaps more than he should have, Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, then they, Ron and Hermione set off back to the inn. Just now Harry had no desire to do anything other than get away from that reporter.


	13. 13 His Own Undoing

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HIS OWN UNDOING

It was in total shocked silence that Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione returned to the inn. Harry was once again enraged. His one-sided shouting match with that Daily Prophet reporter had done nothing to calm him. In fact, he now had more reason to be angry. Recalling Voldemort's ceaseless campaign to destroy Harry, starting with everyone he was close to, would have been quite enough to be getting on with. A reporter from the loathsome newspaper mentioning the ministry and Snape as well made Harry surprised that he hadn't exploded with anger.

As they walked, Hermione was wringing her hands and turning her head this way and that, as if checking the coast was clear. It wasn't until they were back in the solitude of Harry's room that she spoke, making her actions clear.

"Harry, that was really stupid you know," she reprimanded in a shaky voice. "We're supposed to be laying low, and now you've blown that. Voldemort's going to know we were here. You know I'd be surprised if he doesn't have some sort of insider at the paper that's telling him all about this right now. He could arrive here with an army of Death Eaters any time."

"I doubt it," Harry replied in a dull voice. He was still too focused on all the people he was angry with to care about what the Dark Lord might be plotting. And honestly, if Voldemort wanted to call him out, at this moment Harry wouldn't have cared.

"And you released his true identity, along with the fact that you know stuff about when he was a kid," Hermione said frantically, as she strode about the room, running her hands through her already bushy hair, making it frizzy. "Oh Harry what if he suspects we know?"

"What? That his real name's Tom Riddle?" Ginny asked. She flinched as she said the name. Harry often forgot that she was intimately aware of exactly who Tom Marvolo Riddle was. "I'd find it hard to believe that Voldemort couldn't have worked that out for himself. And then there was Harry's interview that appeared in the Prophet and Quibbler."

"Yeah, _You-Know-Who _–" Ron emphasized these words (he had been shuddering up a storm each time Voldemort's name was mentioned), " – isn't stupid. A little arrogant maybe -" he admitted with a slight nod of his head, "- but really, Harry didn't do anything horrendous."

Harry wasn't sure what was up with Hermione. She was in a fuss about the whole scene, and seemed to be trying to find a hole to expand on. She finally located one and stopped pacing.

"You two – Harry you grabbed her hand!"

"Is that not allowed now?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowed. She clearly didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Of course not," Hermione snapped, "but Harry was the one that wanted to keep your relationship secret from Voldemort. Well that's hardly going to happen now. Didn't you see that photographer that was hiding in the bushes? I'm sure he snapped a photo of you two together."

Harry hadn't seen that. He glanced at Ginny, who was looking back at him. She was waiting for his reaction. He couldn't say how he felt just now. Shock would probably have been the right feeling. His worry had come racing back, mixing with the anger still bubbling very close to the surface. He was now starting to get a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that this meant nothing but trouble.

"Why did you have to come here?" he asked Ginny furiously. Harry was berating himself again for the lack of will power that he had when it came to her. He was not denying that being with Ginny made him happier than he could ever remember being, but over the last six weeks that had been surpassed by never ceasing worry about her safety. And now, instead of things getting better, they were getting worse. Harry seemed to be losing all sense of rational thought when it came to his relationship with the youngest Weasley.

"You know why. Don't start this rubbish where you pretend to be all mad just to turn around a second later and do the exact opposite," Ginny fired at Harry. She appeared as angry as he felt. But for the first time, he thought that he saw a mild trace of fear. Maybe now she had finally realized how dire the situation really was.

"Oh I won't, believe me. If you hadn't run off to come here we wouldn't be in this stupid situation now," Harry fumed. He _was_ angry at Ginny, truth be told. However, he was much angrier at the situation. They shouldn't have to worry about this sort of thing. They shouldn't have to hide their relationship in fear that a crazed mass murderer would use it to nefarious ends. He was mad about the fact that he had to be upset at all. Ginny being here made him happy, that should be it.

"Harry, Ginny, I didn't mean –" Hermione said, obviously aghast at what she had started.

"Stay out of this," both Harry and Ginny shouted at her, barely taking the time to glance at their friend. She backed away and joined Ron who was sitting on the bed watching them.

"So are you trying to tell me that you don't want me here?" Ginny asked,

"Yes, I've been trying to tell you that for weeks now." Harry realized his blunder too late, but wasn't really all that upset about it anyway. He had explained himself so many times before he felt like a recording. Why is it that Ginny just couldn't seem to get it through her head that he wanted her to stay away from him for now so that she wouldn't be in danger?

"That's not how you were acting last night," Ginny stated. Out of the corner or his eye Harry saw Ron's eyes narrow. He looked like he was going to interject, but was stopped by an elbow in the ribs from Hermione. "Fine," Ginny wasn't upset about what Harry had just said, or at least she wasn't showing it. "I'll just go home then."

She started for the door. Harry knew she was bluffing. How would she get home from here anyway? Lupin had side-along Apparated her here the night before. She couldn't exactly walk back to the Burrow from Godric's Hollow. Ginny might be stubborn and a little too independent sometimes, but she wasn't stupid. He watched her wrench open the door and walk out into the hall. She would come back in a minute. This was just a game of wills that she was trying to win. Harry wasn't going to give in.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked nervously. She was staring at the still open door. The amused smile Harry had been wearing at the apparent game Ginny was playing faltered just before Hermione had spoken. Maybe she wasn't actually playing and she was really going to leave. He wouldn't put it past Ginny to do it. "You can't let her leave like that."

Harry was already ahead of Hermione. He was nearly in the hall. This game, if that's what it was, had gone on long enough. The fact that Ginny might be serious had caused Harry's anger to turn again to fear. He caught up with her just before she got to the exit of the inn.

"Gin, what are you doing?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder to turn her to face him.

"I told you, I'm going home. You have told me so many times that you don't want me here. Well, I won't burden you with my presence then," she said angrily.

"You know it's not like that. I've told you already that I would like to have you with us, but can't. It would be too dangerous."

"Save it Harry. I'm going." She did indeed turn to leave again. But there was no way that Harry was going to let her. He had let this go on far too long. They were definitely going to leave that day, but Ginny was not leaving alone.

"I'll take you back then, but I'm not letting you leave here without me," he told her. "You know why. Never mind the fact that your parents would kill me if they knew I let you leave."

Harry smiled a little, trying to show her that he was mad at what she had done, not necessarily her. He had enough of arguing with Ginny. Their fighting had almost caused him to make another huge error. If he had delayed even a minute longer she might have been able to leave. The plethora of the horrible things that could have happened to her if she had was running through Harry's mind making him feel a little queasy.

"Yeah that's all you care about," Ginny shot, "what my parents are going to say. As long as you haven't pissed them off you're happy." She didn't look at Harry as she said this. Her ton betrayed the fact that she didn't believe this. She was just speaking out of anger.

"You know that's not true."

Ginny still didn't look at him, but she gave a small nod of her head, showing she conceded. She walked past him to the room she had left a minute earlier.

"Oh thank God," Hermione cried. She had been pacing around the room again looking extremely agitated. When Ginny appeared in the dorrway she ran over and hugged her. "We were worried that you wouldn't listen to Harry. If you had left –" She stopped talking. An avalanche of horrible happenings had been racing through Hermione's mind. Ron looked a little pale himself.

"I want to," Ginny admitted. "But Harry convinced me to come back. We are going to be leaving straight away though." She looked at him for confirmation. He nodded. This was all that Ron and Hermione needed to take action. They both looked at Harry and Ginny to make sure that they were serious about leaving, and then exited Harry's room to get their things.

Ginny accompanied Harry to find the Clark's to pay their bill. Without words they both had got over their fight, and were perfectly content with the other again. As the elderly couple gave them a cherry goodbye Harry was certain that it would not be the last time that he seen them. He still wasn't feeling all that warm towards Godric's Hollow, after the way things had gone at his parents' graves, but he still felt like there was more to do here. Well, he thought, there was. He still wanted to see the house that he and his parents had lived in, and where they had died. It felt like there was something there that he needed to see. But that would have to wait for another time.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked the same path the trio had taken the night before when they first arrived. Once they crossed the bridge there was a small forest that they could enter to Disapparate, thus minimizing the chance that they would be seen disappearing into thin air.

"Have you ever done this before?" Ginny asked when Harry told her to take his arm. "Side-along Apparated someone?"

"Yes," Harry said, tensing at the question. Ginny didn't ask for details.

"Right, well it doesn't really matter anyway. I would trust you even if you hadn't." Grateful for this vote of confidence, especially after the fight they had just had. Harry smiled down at her, and then focused his mind on their new destination.

The four teens appeared back in the shabby London Square, and made their way, with heavy hearts, into the dingy house. They had been expected. When the door closed and their vision had adjusted to the darkness they found they were not alone in the entrance. Lupin was waiting there for them, as was Mrs. Weasley. The woman was wringing her hands again like she had done before they left the Burrow the day before.

No one said anything for the time it took to relock the door. Mrs. Weasley was glancing at Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. It looked like she was checking them over to see if they were any worse for wear. When she had satisfied herself that they weren't she rounded on her daughter.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" she bellowed.

They really had to stop having shouting matches in the entrance, Harry thought to himself as he and Lupin raced up the stairs to shut up Mrs Black's shrieks of "BLOOD TRAITORS, MUDBLOODS, SCUM, BESPOILING THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK," that had drowned out the rest of Mrs. Weasley's lecture to her daughter.

"You're back early," Lupin said a little breathlessly as he and Harry walked back down the stairs. "I'd have thought that you and the others would want to have a good look around the village. You haven't been there before now, there's loads to see."

Harry told him about what had had hastened their return to Grimmauld Place. He told his former professor everything, including how he had been angry with Ginny and almost done the stupidest thing by letting her leave. He added Hermione's suspicions that Voldemort might have someone working at the Daily Prophet. That is, someone that could inform him of these sorts of breaking stories.

"We don't know that for certain, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did." Lupin commented. He looked like this was the least of his concerns at the moment. "Listen Harry," he was suddenly serious, and Harry was sure that he was about to be reprimanded for his inability to control his temper. Even though Lupin was speaking in a very dour voice, he really wasn't lecturing, just warning. "We have to be very careful what we shout at reporters. You, most especially, have to be cautious."

"I know, it's just we were leaving from seeing mum and dad's graves," Harry explained. "And that reporter started firing questions at me, asking about Voldemort and Snape –" he had to stop and take a deep breath. Even now after all these weeks he couldn't think of Snape without feeling that same urge to break something. The former potions master's neck would be the most ideal thing, however . . . "And I just kind of lost it and went on this rant. Then I did the most stupid thing. Well, I wasn't thinking properly, and I didn't know there was a photographer there. But I grabbed Ginny's hand."

In any other situation that statement would have seemed overly dramatic. It wasn't supposed to be a bad or stupid thing for a boyfriend and girlfriend to hold hands. But of course, in this circumstance it would indicate an intimate relationship, something that Harry and Ginny didn't want the wide world to know. Reiterating this to Lupin made Harry think all over again how stupid he had been, and was still being when it came to Ginny.

Harry had never been good at hiding his emotions. His anger and frustration at himself obviously showed on his face because Lupin pulled him into a quick one-armed hug. It was a comforting gesture, but didn't change the fact that with his actions today, Harry had made things worse.

"Molly was not pleased with what Ginny did," Lupin told Harry. He probably changed the topic on purpose to take Harry's mind of his own failings. It was expected that she wouldn't be happy with her daughter's actions. Harry said as much, but thought that Mrs. Weasley was probably a little more than 'not pleased' if her volume of shouting was to be held as any indication.

"It was really irresponsible of her to do that." Hermione and Ron had just caught up to Harry and Lupin as they continued to descend the stairs to the kitchen, where they could hear voices, or one voice in particular. "Really, with all the dark activity that is going on out there; Mrs. Weasley has reason to worry."

They reached the basement kitchen. This was where Mrs. Weasley had taken Ginny as well. As they pushed the door open to enter they were treated to some of Ginny's lecture.

"YOU WAIT UNTIL I TELL YOUR FATHER!" Mrs. Weasley's voice was growing hoarse from the shouting that she had been doing for the past few minutes. She was much louder in here than she had been upstairs, owing no doubt to the fact that her voice was echoing off the stone walls. "I THOUGHT THAT YOU HAD MORE SENSE."

Ginny was sitting at the table, with her head in her hands. When Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lupin entered the kitchen she looked up at them. He had thought that she was crying at her mother's angry words, but Harry saw that Ginny had been hiding an amused smile. Why she was smiling was a mystery to him. If Mrs. Weasley had been yelling at him like that Harry probably would have looked much more like Mr. Weasley, or one of his sons, who cowered at her anger.

AND YOU TWO," Molly Weasley rounded furiously on Lupin and Harry, who did indeed blench when she addressed them. "HELPING HER DO THIS," she addressed that to Lupin, "AND I THOUGHT THAT YOU WANTED TO KEEP HER SAFE," is what she said to Harry. "WHAT IF THERE HAD BEEN DEATH EATERS?" Mrs. Weasley had her hands on her hips as she glanced from Harry to Lupin, breathing hard.

Harry didn't know what he was going to say to her. It seemed like she just might pop her clogs if they said the wrong thing. Lupin was the first to speak.

"You're absolutely right Molly. It was a stupid thing for Ginny to do, but even more so for us to harbor her. It won't happen again. You have my word." As he made this declaration Lupin was looking at Ginny. He was trying to impress upon her that he was quite serious, Harry thought.

"I'm sorry too," Harry apologized. "I'll make sure she doesn't do this again." How he was going to do that he hadn't a clue. As he had been speaking Ginny got out of her chair, came over and as she wrapped her arms around his waist she whispered in his ear,

"That's not what you were saying last night." He felt himself go red at her words. No, that definitely wasn't what he had said the night before. But that had been when they had been in the moment. Just thinking about that moment caused him to blush a little more. He really needed to stop doing that. It was always a dead giveaway that Ginny was making some kind of innuendo. Nevertheless, he put his arm around her and pulled her close to him.

Mrs. Weasley had been watching this interaction through narrowed eyes. They opened a little wider when Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and whispered in his ear. When he turned the color of a fire hydrant and pulled her closer, the elder Weasley woman eyes widened so much that they appeared to be popping out of her head. She was coming to her own conclusions about what had happened between the two the night before, and from the expression on her face those thoughts were the same as Ron's had been that morning.

"Thank goodness everything was all right," Mrs. Weasley stated, her voice finally back to a normal volume. She had calmed down a little. But there was an appraising look on her face when she glanced back at Harry and Ginny. "That doesn't mean that you have escaped trouble though," she added as an afterthought, seeing the smile on her daughters face.

"Of course not mum," Ginny replied. She was still wearing that same amused look as when they had first entered the kitchen. Exactly what was so amusing about this situation Harry was never to find out.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Lupin and Mrs. Weasley finally took seats around the table, and Mrs. Weasley wanted to hear what Godric's Hollow was like. She explained her interest by telling them that she had heard that it was a beautiful village, very scenic. They assured her that it was. Hermione, ever the stickler for details, regaled the elder Weasley woman with descriptions of everything they had seen. She gave so much detail that even Harry and Ron, who had been there with her, got an education. How was it that she was able to glean so much from less than twenty-four hours in the place?

"Well, its getting on, and we really should be getting home," Mrs. Weasley stated about an hour later. She had looked at the clock. Then standing up she said, "Ginny come on, we're going home."

"Mum come on, its still early, and we barely got back," Ginny complained. She gave in though when her mother fixed her with an angry stare. "Yeah, OK, I'm coming." She got up reluctantly and followed her mother to the door.

Given everything that had happened that day, Harry hoped that he would be able to fall asleep easily. But he had no such luck. At the very least he had enjoyed a restful sleep the night before. That always seemed to be the way it was when Ginny was around. If he could have her near him every night he doubted that he would have any trouble sleeping at all. But that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

Harry was so well practiced at the insomnia routine that he gave up trying to sleep after a half an hour. He knew that he wasn't going to have any rest that night. He came back down into the kitchen, wondering exactly why they spent so much time in this room. Its not like everyone that stayed at number twelve Grimmauld Place was constantly eating.

It was way past midnight when Harry pushed the door open but he found that there were already two people sitting at the table. Lupin and Tonks were talking quietly.

"Er . . . sorry to interrupt." Harry started to back out, worried that he had perhaps intruded on an intimate moment.

"No, Harry, come in please." Lupin beckoned him into the room. "We were just on our way to get you."

What had happened now? In Harry's life it was never a good sign when someone said they were going to come and get you in the middle of the night. The last time this had happened Ginny had advised him of Aunt Marge's murder. Harry really hoped that he wasn't about to learn of the murder of someone else that he cared about. He entered the room slowly. Lupin pointed to the newspaper that was sitting on the table before them.

"Read that," he said sadly.

Harry picked up the paper. The first thing that he saw was a picture taken of himself, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. It was the one that Hermione prophesized had been snapped as they walked away from the Daily Prophet reporter in Godric's Hollow earlier that day. The headline read:

MORE ALLEGATIONS FROM BOY WHO LIVED: 'YOU-KNOW-WHO AND SNAPE COWARDS'

What was so ominous about that? Harry didn't care if the Prophet reported on what he had said earlier that day. Despite his one slip up about having information on Voldemort's childhood activities, he hoped that the paper would report what he said. He wanted people to read that Voldemort had a real name. If Dumbledore were right then maybe some of the fear in the world that was directed towards the despicable Tom Riddle would dissipate. If people stopped fearing the name, maybe they would fear the man a little less. This could only be a good thing. But knowing the paper like he did, Harry was sure that they wouldn't stick to what he said. They were going to have to color it, and Ginny's name was sure to get dragged in. He began to read.

After weeks of silence The Boy Who Lived has spoken out yet again. Four days ago, Harry Potter stood in the ministry of magic and made allegations that the current and former administrations were lax in security measures. He alleged these holes in procedure were responsible for the successful escape of ten top security prisoners from Azkaban eighteen months ago. This time Mr. Potter was making allegations regarding the proposed murderer of Albus Dumbledore, and about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself.

Your Daily Prophet reporter encountered the famous wizard in the tiny village of Godric's Hollow, where he was visiting the graves of his dead parents, Lily and James Potter. Harry Potter declined comment on this visit, but became enraged when the subject of Severus Snape was broached with him.

"Snape's nothing but a murderer and a coward who's being shielded by You-Know-Who," he shouted at this reporter. But Mr. Potter didn't stop there. He went on to make allegations about You-Know-Who.

He claims that the most feared wizard ever is really a Half-Blood by the name of Tom Riddle. Harry Potter also claims that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named created this alias because he was ashamed of his heritage.

The famous teen wizard seems to have a lot of information about You-Know-Who's former life. He claims that the Dark Lord, or Tom Riddle as we should perhaps call him henceforth, was a bully as a young child. This penchant for dominating others would certainly be consistent with his actions as an adult wizard.

Mr. Potter refused further comment on these allegations. He stormed off after providing these few tantalizing words. He seemed to prefer to be in the company of his friends, a one Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss. Hermione Granger, and a striking red-head that was obviously his long-time girlfriend and love interest, Ginevra Weasley.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. The only line that Harry wished he could strike out was the last one. It would be way too much to hope that Voldemort wouldn't have this news reach his ears. And now that this had been printed, he doubted that it would be the last that would be heard of it. The papers kept their noses in his business, and for some reason his love life was a hot topic ever since Rita Skeeter had printed that stupid article in Witch Weekly saying that Hermione was his girlfriend.

"We've already alerted Molly and Arthur," Lupin said quietly. "They've agreed that for the short term it might be better if Ginny comes back here to headquarters, at least until the hoopla dies down over this. We were sure you'd agree with that."

"Yeah," Harry said a little distracted, still staring at the article. He was worried. Strangely though he wasn't as worried as he would have thought. This might have been because action was already being taken to remedy the problem. Maybe it was the fact that Ginny was going to come back here again, where she would be safe. Maybe it was just the fact that Ginny was going to be with him again. In any case, he was focused more on the picture. His black and white self was reaching for Ginny's hand, which she willingly took.

Harry smiled down at the picture. He couldn't believe, even now, that he and Ginny were together. They had finally been able to synchronize their feelings for each other, and act on them. There had been all those years that she had a crush on him and then his total inability to confess his feelings for her. In the end fate seemed to have intervened though, in the form of Gryffindor winning at Quidditch. However they had finally got together, it was worth it. Ginny might be frustrating as hell sometimes, but she kept him on his toes. She didn't walk on eggshells around him. If he were doing something thickheaded she would tell him. Much as Harry hated to admit it, he really needed that sometimes.

The Weasleys must have got the news before Harry even ventured downstairs, because he was just sitting down with a cup of coffee to wait when the kitchen door burst open and Ginny came bounding in. She slid into the chair beside him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Lucky turn of events," she said. Harry didn't know if he would call it lucky. All the same, as he had already thought, this wasn't bad, having Ginny here with him again, and safe. Her parents, who had come in the room with her, were not looking happy though, they were looking worried. It was understandable; they had to move away from their home because of this latest problem. Harry felt a stab of guilt as he realized that he had caused it.

"We have to leave directly Ginny," said Mr. Weasley wearily. She went over to hug her mother and father goodbye.

"Be careful dear," Mrs. Weasley hugged her daughter very tightly, and didn't let go until Mr. Weasley pulled her away.

"Molly, we should go," he said, his hands on her shoulders.

"I know Arthur." Mrs. Weasley's voice was still muffled as she held her youngest child close to her. She didn't seem to want to let go, but finally did so as her husband started to pull a little more firmly.

"We have to have a few words with Lupin and Tonks, could you excuse us?" Mr. Weasley asked Harry and Ginny. They didn't argue and left the kitchen.

They ended up in the tapestry room. This was another room that they tended to frequent. Grimmauld Place was not a small house, yet Harry and the other occupants seemed to only use this room, the kitchen and their bedrooms. Some of the reason was that many rooms in the house still were filthy and infested with who knew what, otherwise they had no explanation why this was.

"What do you think they wanted to talk about?" Ginny asked.

"Dunno,"

"Bet they're telling Lupin and Tonks to keep a close eye on us. Mum thinks we had sex last night," Ginny said blatantly.

"Er . . . you can see why she might think that," Harry said, rubbing his neck uncomfortably.

"Tsh, what . . . does she think that the minute we're alone we jump on each other like animals?" Ginny asked in an annoyed voice.

"Probably, because you do," Ron's voice rang out. He and Hermione had been sitting in a dark corner; Harry and Ginny hadn't noticed them when they first came in. "What are you doing back here Ginny?"

"You didn't tell him?" she looked at Harry with a shocked expression on her face.

"Didn't have a chance, I only found out about it five minutes before you guys got here," Harry explained.

"What?" Ron and Hermione asked, coming over so they could ascertain the reason for Ginny's mysterious return. Harry explained about the article that had appeared, and how they were just being cautious. Ginny was probably going to be staying there for a few days, closer to a week more likely.

The look of concern Ron wore changed and he snorted.

"I think that Harry's luck is rubbing off on you. Mum should have gone totally off on you and forbid you to see Harry again. Instead she brings you back here the very same night you leave." Ron smiled weakly. Trying to lighten the mood was something he did often. In most cases Hermione would scold him for this, but tonight she didn't.

Not long after, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley came into the drawing room to say their goodbyes. Mrs. Weasley didn't try to squeeze her daughter to death this time. But from the moment that she stepped in the room she wore a very sad expression on her face. This look wasn't foreign to Harry. He had seen the same one the night Mrs. Weasley attempted to fight the Boggart and it turned into the dead bodies of her family, and more recently at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Harry and the others walked the Weasleys to the door. They had explained to him that they couldn't stay at headquarters. It would be too difficult for them with all of the things that they still needed to do for the order and the ministry. It would be a little conspicuous if they were seen leaving the derelict square everyday.

Once Mr and Mrs Weasley had Disapparated Hermione pulled Ginny upstairs under the pretence that the latter needed to unpack. Harry was sure that Hermione wanted to get an answer to whether he and Ginny had actually done more the night before than they were willing to admit.

"This is hard on Arthur and Molly," Lupin said as he, Harry and Ron watched the two girls tiptoe past the portrait of Mrs Black.

"I'd imagine," Harry said. Lupin continued as though he hadn't heard Harry's comment.

"They had so many kids, and Ginny's the youngest. It's hard for them to accept that she's almost an adult. But they've been forced into this acceptance because of her relationship with you Harry."

"How's that?" Ron asked.

Lupin didn't answer right away. He stared up the stairs for a while. "A number of things. I think it was a little bit of a shock for Molly to find you kissing her daughter on platform nine and three-quarters," Lupin smiled one of his marauder-esque smiles again. "Seeing how close you two were when they stayed here for that week was further proof. I think what solidified it was when Ginny ran off to be with you three, and her enthusiastic greeting when they returned. Oh, and Molly's sure that you two have . . . uh . . ." Lupin rubbed his neck in the same way Harry had done just a few minutes before.

"We haven't," Harry said quickly. He didn't know why he felt the need to tell Lupin this. Maybe he wasn't telling Lupin at all. What did it really matter. It's not like he was Harry's father. Perhaps it was Ron, who was not looking very pleased, that Harry had to explain this to.

"Ah . . . .well, she'll be relieved to know that, I'm sure." Lupin still looked a little embarrassed at this topic. Was he recalling the talk that he and Mr. Weasley had given the five Weasley boys and Harry the day of his birthday? That was certainly one of the reasons that Harry was feeling as embarrassed as he was now.

"And we'll make sure it stays that way," Ron said fiercely. With that comment they all decided that it was indeed time for bed, and made their way quietly up the stairs.

The inhabitants of Grimmauld Place were not the only ones awake reading the Evening Prophet. In another dismal house miles and miles away a short nearly bald man was perusing the story that was crammed onto the first page, along with other stories about all of the activities perpetrated by the Death Eaters. He watched the moving picture of Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron as they started to walk away.

His small watery eyes were constricted as he read the last few lines of the story. Peter Pettigrew wasn't sure how to take this report. Calling Severus Snape a coward was not a smart thing to do, but the allegations that Harry Potter had leveled against the Dark Lord were bordering on blasphemy. His master was going to be in a fury about these words, surely. Not many Death Eaters even knew of his true identity, or blood status.

Pettigrew returned his attention to the picture. So, Harry Potter was dating Ginny Weasley. Well, the girl was probably happy. Peter recalled vividly the boring conversations he had overheard about Harry Potter during the years he had lived at the Burrow as Ron Weasley's pet rat. The girl had obviously been smitten with the so-called savior of the wizarding world. And he seemed happy with her too. It was just unfortunate that the Dark Lord was going to do away with the boy in due course.

"What are you reading Wormtail?" sneered Severus Snape. He was closing the door that Pettigrew had hidden behind the year before when Snape made the unbreakable vow with Narcissa Malfoy. Snape had just come up from the dungeons hidden beneath his childhood home. Pettigrew recoiled at the question. He was a little irritated at the fact that the Dark Lord still saw fit to have him staying in this Muggle hovel with the miserable git.

"Newspaper," he said in his timid voice. His watery eyes darted around the room, looking for an excuse to escape.

"Surprising," Snape sneered. "What rubbish are they reporting on today? More attacks?" He came over to take a look at the paper that Wormtail had abandoned on the end table.

Snape approached so he could see what was on the front page. The headline caught his attention immediately. He snatched up the paper and started reading. As he got farther down the article his mouth formed a small line. He was seething with rage. When he reached the end of the paper he crumpled it into a ball, threw it into the empty grate, then conjured a fire and watched the paper begin to burn.

Shape watched as the paper smoldered. Potter, he let out a little growl at just the thought of the name. It really was a pity that the Dark Lord hadn't been able to finish him off when he did the job on the boy's arrogant father. That would have saved the world so much hassle. Perhaps if Lord Vol . . . had been able to do the job properly things would have been different. But, there were many things that could have been different. If only Snape hadn't lost his temper years ago he wouldn't have ended up in the stupid situation with Dumbledore that he had. He might not have had to kill the great wizard.

Thinking of the actions he had perpetrated nearly two months ago, Snape felt little. He hadn't wanted to do it, but Dumbledore had made him swear that he would. Why the old man would even want to be killed to save a worthless lump like Draco Malfoy was a mystery to Snape. But that didn't really matter.

Right now, Snape's real fury was for The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, or whatever other undeserved title had been bestowed on the mediocre son of the great bullying git, James Potter. He had told Potter before not to call him a coward. But the boy was a little slow on the uptake; it shouldn't have surprised Snape that he didn't get it with just one repetition. Why hadn't he ignored the Dark Lord's orders and finished the boy off that night? It certainly would have made Snape feel better. Honestly, Potter trying to duel with him? The little prat no skill in that area whatsoever. This is why he would never be able to finish off the Dark Lord, if indeed he was fated to do it.

Snape would not stand for letting Potter spread untruths about him. He could just go to Order headquarters and finish off the 'savior of the wizarding world.' Snape was revolted at the mere thought. He stood there fuming, still watching the paper burn. He was working out a way to get back at Potter for this latest attack. Letting the Dark Lord finish him off wasn't quite good enough. Snape wanted a hand in this.

His eyes fell on the last piece of the paper not yet charred. It was the photo. He hadn't taken a close look at it, the headline is what had grabbed his attention. He watched it, there was Potter, his faithful sidekick Weasley, the mudblood and . . . what was this?

Snape extinguished the fire and pulled what remained of the paper from among the ashes. He watched the moving people in the picture. Potter was actually reaching for Ginny Weasley's hand. So the two were still together then? This was quite interesting news; possibly just the sort of thing that Snape needed.

The Dark Lord had been very shortsighted when it came to the news Snape and Draco hade given him regarding Potter. Snape had been the one to provide intelligence on Harry's aunt Marge. The Dark wizard had not thought this useful until the night Potter had escaped his clutches for the sixth time. Lord Vol . . . had been in a fury and ordered the murder. Snape had wanted to go along but had been denied this pleasure. The Dark Lord was still angry with him for the unbreakable vow. Snape was sure the Dark Lord was also still angry about his intelligence on the Little Whinging wards; at least angry about the fact that Potter had been forewarned.

Something the Dark Lord seemed wholly disinterested in was Potter's relationship with Ginny Weasley. Draco had reported this to him right away. At first the Dark Lord seemed pleased, but later said it was useless information. Perhaps this had been because he thought he could get to Potter at Privet Drive. Snape was quite unnerved at his master not using Draco's information.

But, with this picture Snape had certain proof that Potter and Ginny Weasley were still together. He seemed to care for the girl more than anyone had realized. This could only be good news for the winning side in this war. Remembering what Potter had done to try and save Sirius Black from the Dark Lord over a year ago, Snape's face broke into a cruel smile. If his thoughts were right and Potter cared for the girl that much as to have her with him in public, then his master would have an in.

Potter was really stupid; Snape didn't doubt that for a second. But this was beyond ignorant. He was going to be his own undoing. The boy, by wearing his heart on his sleeve, had given both Snape and the Dark Lord the information they needed to get to him. The foolish boy always would do anything to save those he loved, this was well known among the Death Eaters, and to the Dark Lord himself. His foolish penchant for heroics would play right into their hands. Yes, the red-head who readily took his hand, was Potter's weakness.


	14. 14 Sooner Or Later

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SOONER OR LATER

Ginny spent her sixteenth birthday at Grimmauld Place. It was a week after that article had appeared in the Evening Prophet. The Order hadn't gathered any information about whether Voldemort had heard about that report. No news was good news when it came to the snake. Harry felt that way in any case, especially when it involved Ginny. He hated to admit it, but he was glad that article had been released inasmuch as it allowed her to be here with him.

Neither Ron nor Hermione were as happy about Ginny being there as Harry was. Ron was sticking to his declaration to make sure that Harry and Ginny didn't have the chance to become closer than they already were. He was a little short-tempered these days. It might have been because he kept intruding on their alone time, and had seen more than he liked. It could also have been that constantly following them around meant that he couldn't be doing the same sorts of things with Hermione. Whatever the case he was starting to annoy Harry, Ginny and Hermione to no end.

Hermione wasn't bothered by the fact that Ginny was there. Like Harry she wanted to make sure that nothing happened. However, having her there meant that the trio couldn't spend as much time working out where the next Horcrux was, or how to get past the inevitable spells and enchantments that were bound to be guarding it. And then there was the fact that with Ginny there, Harry didn't feel that same pressing need to get rid of Voldemort that he had when she was staying at the Burrow.

Several Order meetings took place during the week. While Harry and his friends were not privy to what went on in the meetings, they hadn't been completely in the dark. There had been more Death Eater attacks. During the last week there had been three murders. The Dementors were swooping around Ireland, attacking each day, and Fenrir Greyback had attacked several people.

Each time that they were given news about another attack, Harry felt a pang of guilt. The day of Dumbledore's funeral he had told himself that it would be better to set off to find the Horcruxes as soon as possible. Now over seven weeks later they had found one, but weren't all that close to finding another, and he had sat for an entire week and done nothing. Every time that Ginny came near him though, Harry was able to justify his actions. He had her to worry about. Who really cared what horrors were happening outside of Grimmauld Place, as long as she was safe.

Harry knew that he couldn't really delay much longer. His conscience was starting to get to him. He really would like nothing better than to stay cooped up in Sirius's old house with his girlfriend and forget what was happening outside it. If only there were someone else that could perform the tasks that Dumbledore had set for Harry to do. But of course there wasn't. It was down to him to find those remaining items. He wasn't going to have much luck doing that if he just spent the entirety of his days with Ginny.

During one of the several Order meetings that had taken place during the week, Mr. Weasley had pulled Harry aside and told him that he and his wife, along with the rest of Ginny's siblings (minus Percy of course) were going to come for her birthday. It was not the ideal sweet sixteen party for their daughter, but the Weasleys were always able to make the best out of the situations that they were presented with.

This party was supposed to be a surprise for Ginny. Mrs. Weasley arrived in the early afternoon. She, with Hermione's help, snuck in and commandeered the kitchen. Everyone was set to be arriving around dinnertime. For that one day, Ron actually left Harry and Ginny alone. It was Harry's job to try and keep it from her that there was going to be a party. He wasn't too impressed with this. He was a bad liar, especially to Ginny.

In a surprise turn of events, Harry didn't blow it. Ginny didn't even ask if something was going on that day. In fact she was quiet a lot more than was normal for her. She was in a melancholic mood. Harry was quite certain that she was missing her family. Being here without them any other day didn't seem to faze Ginny, but when it came to her birthday, she clearly wanted to be at home. Seeing her so downcast made Harry want to tell her about the party. It also increased his feelings of guilt. Ginny really should be with her family, it was because of him that she wasn't. Three days ago the Order had said Ginny could go home if she wanted. Harry had been the one to say it was too soon.

When Harry and Ginny walked into the kitchen and she was greeted by most of her family, she broke into a wide smile and ran to hug everyone. It was like they were all back at the Burrow again, and the Weasleys were the same happy family that they always were. They were laughing and joking, eating the delicious food, watching Ginny open her presents. Just now, for a few brief hours, Harry felt no guilt for tasks left undone, or for being selfish when it came to Ginny.

When the Weasleys made ready to leave that night, it was with heavy hearts that Harry, Ron, Hermione and especially Ginny saw them to the door. Once they were gone, Ginny resorted back to that melancholic mood. She and Hermione went upstairs to get ready for bed shortly thereafter.

"I think she misses home," Ron said, vocalizing what Harry had already figured out on his own. This thought caused him to fidget. They were going to have to get back to work very soon. Every time they got news about more attacks his heart plummeted a little more. And now Ginny was starting to get as downtrodden as Harry had been before his birthday. No, it was definitely time to get back to work, and sooner would definitely be better than later.

The next day Ginny was back to her usual self, and this change in demeanor caused Harry to waiver in his resolve to start the hunt. Hermione, however, finally decided enough was enough. She sat Harry down to have a talk with him about the fact that they were wasting time.

"That day at Dumbledore's funeral, you seemed like you wanted to get started on this straight away. Well we're now nearing two months since then, and we've only found the one Horcrux. We haven't even really started looking for the others." She was speaking in a rather stern voice. "When are we going to start seriously looking for the next one?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally.

"The longer we delay, the more innocent lives he can take," Hermione said in an angry voice.

"You think I don't know that?" Harry asked, annoyed. Did she think that he wasn't aware of what Voldemort was capable of?

"Well, I don't know what you're playing at, sitting around here as if there's nothing going on out there. It's like you think we're on holiday or something."

If Ron had been in the room at the time he probably would have pointed out that they were on holiday. But Harry knew that they weren't really. The three of them had decided the day of the headmaster's funeral that they weren't going back to school, at the very least until Voldemort had been destroyed. They didn't really have two months to sit and do nothing.

Harry said nothing further on the matter. After a few minutes Hermione stopped trying to get him to talk. She buried her face in a book. Ginny came into the room a minute later so Harry didn't have to sit lost in self-deprecating thoughts for too long.

Not long after Hermione had tried to get a definitive answer from Harry, Ginny was making her way back out of the room and to bed. Harry watched her go with a smile on his face. This entire week had been so much better than he ever would have thought possible on the train journey from Hogwarts in June. Even despite all of the terrible things that had, and were, happening.

"It's not going to get any easier," Hermione stated. She had been reading quietly for so long that Harry had quite forgotten that she was there. When she spoke he jumped a little. He didn't need her to explain further, Hermione was talking about leaving Ginny, but she explained anyways. "It's only going to be harder for you, for us, to leave the longer we stay here."

"I know that." Harry was annoyed at the fact that Hermione didn't seem to realize he had worked that much out on his own. But she either wasn't listening, or really wanted to drive this point home because she added,

"And the more danger that Ginny's going to be in. You read that Prophet article. Voldemort certainly knows about you two, and it's only a matter of time before he tries to get to you again. The more we delay, the more powerful he's going to get. That will make it easier for him to get to Ginny."

This very thought had been bothering Harry over the last few days. With the increase in frequency and severity of Death Eater and dark creature attacks it was obvious that Voldemort was gaining power. The stronger he got, the more difficult Harry's task was going to be. They were going to have to find the Horcruxes, and soon. This meant getting back to work, and getting Ginny back to the Burrow. But the longer he could put off her inevitable return, the better he slept.

"Harry I really think that we should consider leaving as soon as possible. The sooner we start –" Hermione had started talking again.

"I'm tired, and I'm going to bed," he cut her off. He trudged up to the room that he and Ron shared. It was empty. He flopped down on the bed, without even bothering to change.

Harry knew that Hermione was absolutely right, that's why he was so annoyed. It was really stupid and selfish of him to sit around doing nothing. They had found the one Horcrux, much quicker than was probably to be expected, given that it took Dumbledore months, if not years to track down the two he found. Yet, they were nowhere near finished. They still had two more Horcruxes to find, plus Nagini, and then there would be the final battle itself.

A moment later Harry was on the next landing knocking on the door to the room that Ginny and Hermione shared. It was the former that called for him to come in. He did so, and saw Ginny standing by a full-length mirror brushing her long mane of red hair. He stopped in the doorway and watched her for a minute, trying to find the words to tell her that they were going to be leaving, probably the next day.

Ginny turned to look at him, initially with a small smile. When she caught sight of his face though her happy expression vanished, and Harry was certain she knew what he had come up to tell her. She came over and wrapped her arms around him.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he told her. He didn't need to ask how she knew. Ginny was always really good at reading his thoughts. This was why it was hard for him to lie to her. He felt, more than heard, her sigh. Was it one of relief or of sadness? Probably both, he thought.

"I knew this would come sooner or later," Ginny spoke, her voice a little muffled because she had her face pressed against his chest. She sounded resigned again.

"Yes, it's long overdue," Harry explained. He was going to tell her everything that he had been thinking over the past week. He wanted to explain how he didn't want to, but knew he had to leave because of Ginny. This was rendered unnecessary though when she spoke again.

"I guess we'll just have to make the most of our last night together," she said. There was a strange look in her eyes. It was a mixture of things, none of which Harry could really put a finger on. Those brown eyes seemed to be pools of sadness, desperation, worry, loneliness, and love. Harry wouldn't have thought it possible for one look to have so many intermingled emotions.

After tonight, Ginny was going back to the Burrow. Harry, Ron and Hermione were definitely going to leave this time. Both Harry and Ginny had been through their goodbyes several times before. They had been through the worry about not seeing each other for who knew how long. This whole scenario was not new to them. Yet, this time it was different.

The simple action of Harry coming to tell Ginny that he and the others were leaving the following day had made this war far more real to both of them than anything else had done. It was the uncertainty of the whole thing. Before, Harry had some idea of what they were going to do. With their first two goodbyes he was going to the Dursleys, then it was to the Burrow a few weeks later, Godric's Hollow had been their destination the last time. This time though, they were leaving, but didn't really know where they were going or what they were going to find.

Yes, Harry and Ginny were no strangers to saying goodbye, but this one was definitely different. Neither knew when they were going to see each other again, or under what circumstances. Would they even see each other again? It was a question they didn't want to think about. Had the question been asked both would have defiantly said yes. However, they knew that they couldn't give it with certainty, because they just didn't know.

The look in Ginny's eyes made Harry aware of two things. The first was that he loved her more than he ever would have thought possible. This thought gave him back the determination that he needed to leave in the morning. If he wasn't going after Voldemort for the wider world, or even himself, then he was doing it for her. The second was that he needed to be with her tonight, and he knew that she felt the same. This need wasn't driven by teenage lust, but love and desperation.

Nothing else mattered to Harry and Ginny that night. They were able to forget about their uncertain future, about all of the bad things that could, and already were, happening. All they were concerned about was each other. They reveled in every touch, every kiss, as though these actions were the antidote to all of their fear and pain. Their actions were those of ones that were desperate to cling to each other forever, but were being torn apart by a force stronger than they were. Even so, it was like they were drawing strength from each other by being so intimate. Everything was going to be all right as long as they could remain together.

All too soon it was morning again. Harry had long ago learned that time seems to speed forward when dangerous and unpleasant things lay in your path. This didn't mean that he liked it. On the upside though, they had the memories of last night for when the inevitable loneliness crept up on them during their time apart. Harry and Ginny basked in the last few moments that they could be close to each other before they had to take their separate paths.

Ron and Hermione were in the kitchen eating breakfast when Harry and Ginny entered together. She was reading the paper, which was certain to be filled with news of more attacks. Ron was sitting back in his chair and looking very grumpy. His mood did not improve when his sister and best friend walked in together.

"Morning," Hermione greeted, looking up from the paper. When she saw that it was two of her good friends, a huge smile appeared on her face. He wasn't sure, but Harry thought she knew what had happened the night before. There was a knowing look in her eyes. When Ron spotted her smile, his scowl intensified. She ignored him and offered them some food, which they declined because they were going to be leaving almost immediately.

"You're going home today?" Ron asked, his bad mood ebbing away, "Why?"

"It's time," Ginny stated simply. She had leaned against Harry, who was resting his chin on her head, his arms wrapped around her. They felt the need to be as close to each other as possible, at least for the last few minutes that they were going to be together.

"Yes, we have to start looking," Harry explained.

"Finally," Hermione's smile increased. "I was wondering when you were going to come to that conclusion. We've really wasted enough time here."

"How're you getting home?" Ron asked his sister.

"I'm taking her," Harry explained.

The expression on Ron's face made it quite obvious to everyone in the room that he was conflicted about this. It was always a crapshoot when it came to Ron's reaction to their relationship. He could just as easily have punched Harry as rejoiced over this news. In the end, he did nothing. He grabbed Hermione's paper and hid behind it. The other three people in the room exchanged looks.

"Well, I guess we should go," Harry spoke a moment later. Doing something sooner was always better than later. That seemed to be the thought of the past few days.

Hermione got up to give Ginny a hug before they left; Ron simply grunted his goodbye from behind the paper. Ginny raised an eyebrow at this, looking from Hermione to Harry, who both shrugged. From the look that Hermione was shooting the paper though, it was likely that Ron was going to get quite the telling off for his reaction once they left.

"Ready?" Harry asked Ginny as they stood just outside number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He had a fleeting hope that she would say no, and refuse to go, but that passed as quick as it came. She slowly nodded her head, and grabbed his arm tightly.

Next instant they were back in the yard that held Ginny's home. When they opened their eyes the scenes that met them were familiar and welcoming. Nothing had changed at all in the last ten days. Not that Harry had expected it too. There had been no change to the house in the six years that he had been coming. Well, there wasn't any physical change to the house. The security around the Burrow had increased immensely. One of these changes was the locked door, which they had to knock on to enter the house.

"W- w- w- who's there?" Mrs. Weasley's shaky voice called through the door.

"It's Harry and I, mum," Ginny called back. She and Harry were exchanging a concerned look. What had happened to make her mother sound so nervous?

The door opened a crack and one of Mrs. Weasley's eyes peered out. When she confirmed it was them, she threw the door open wide. She ushered them quickly in and shut the door right away, locking it again with her wand.

"Oh, Ginny I am so glad you're home. I've been frantic." She pulled her daughter into a tight embrace.

"We're fine." Ginny winced as her mother let go of her. Sometimes Mrs. Weasley hugged a little too hard, especially when she was worried. As her mother turned to Harry to hug him, Ginny went and dropped her bag by the stairs.

"Thank you for taking care of her," Mrs. Weasley expressed her gratitude. Harry looked at Ginny as she said this and, remembering what they had done the night before, felt embarrassed.

"It . . . uh . . . was no trouble." He was rubbing his hand on the back of his neck again, something he did when he was nervous or embarrassed. He couldn't bear to look at Mrs. Weasley or Ginny right now. He was quite certain that Mrs. Weasley would not have been so thankful if she knew about last night. Harry shifted a little guiltily.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have noticed nothing odd in Harry's behaviour though. She asked if he and the others were still planning on leaving Grimmauld Place.

"Yes, probably today, in fact," he explained to her.

"Oh . . . Is that really necessary?" Mrs. Weasley asked, the same tremor in her voice that had greeted them when they first arrived was starting to show itself again.

"Yes mum it is." Ginny was the one speak.

"I suppose it is," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "You make sure you're careful, and you tell Ron and Hermione to do so as well," Mrs. Weasley told Harry. She didn't like this turn of events that was clear, but wore an expression as though she had come to terms with what they were going to do.

"I will, and I'll pass on the message to Ron and Hermione," Harry assured her. "I guess I should go though."

Ginny was looking at him, and then at her mother. Harry could tell that she wanted to have a few more minutes alone with him before he went. He was in agreement with her wants. Mrs. Weasley seemed to pick up on this exchange because she grabbed Ginny's bag and said that she was going to take it upstairs.

As soon as she had disappeared, Ginny ran over and leapt into Harry's arms.

"Make sure you're careful," she said warningly as she kissed him.

"You too," he kissed her back.

"I love you," Ginny told him, they kissed again.

"I love you too," he told her, sealing that proclamation with another kiss. He had to go now, but couldn't say goodbye, or make any move except to kiss Ginny back and run his fingers through her hair.

"Ahem!" Mrs Weasley was back in the kitchen. The announcement of her return had caused the pair to stop kissing, but they didn't let go of each other immediately. Harry realized after a minute that this was his cue to leave. He did finally back away from Ginny.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley."

"Goodbye Harry dear," she responded, a worried look on her face.

Ginny followed Harry as he returned to the yard where he would Disapparate.

"Remember to be careful," Ginny told him again.

"Always." He smiled at her.

"Talk to you soon." This reminded Harry of something. He had almost forgotten and was glad that Ginny had made that comment. If she hadn't he would have been really angry at himself for having brought it with him and not given it to her.

Out of his pocket he pulled the repaired two-way mirror. Hermione had been able to get it working during the last week.

"I want you to take this." He pushed it into her hand. She did take it, but with a bewildered look on her face.

"Thanks Harry, but I have enough mirrors."

"Very funny. It's a two-way mirror. Sirius gave it to me just after Christmas at Grimmauld Place. I didn't find it until . . . until after he died." Was it really a good idea to be giving this mirror to Ginny? Harry wondered if every time he looked at it he would felt pangs of guilt for forgetting about it. "I found the other one this summer. If you need to talk to me just hold it up and say my name. We'll be able to see and talk to each other."

Ginny looked at the mirror appraisingly. "Sounds good," she said finally, looking back at Harry and smiling.

"Don't forget about it. I did. That's why we ended up at the ministry . . . " Harry didn't think that he was ever going to get over his stupidity when it came to Sirius and these mirrors.

"I won't." She leaned up to kiss him again, grabbing both of his hands in hers as she did that.

As before, one kiss wasn't enough. They must have stood there for five minutes, before Harry pulled away and told her again that he had to go. Ginny nodded, but didn't let go of his hands, which she still held in her own. He didn't tell her to let go; instead he brought each hand to his lips and kissed them. Then he pulled away. Before he Disapparated he looked at Ginny one more time.

"I love you," Harry told her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He smiled down at her, then he Disapparated before he changed his mind.

Ginny had the same feeling Harry did about what the others knew regarding their last night together. Hermione in particular had a knowing look on her face. Maybe it was because she and Ron . . . ugh. Ginny was not going to go there. The thought of her brother doing that with anyone was beyond repugnant. If Ron knew that would explain his attitude towards them this morning.

She didn't have long to contemplate the puzzle that was Ron and Hermione's reactions to herself and Harry. Within a few minutes of entering the kitchen they were leaving it again, and leaving Grimmauld Place entirely. When Harry asked if she was ready to go she had a fleeting desire to say that she had changed her mind and didn't want to go home. But she couldn't take any more time in that dismal house, no matter how pleasant it had been to be with Harry.

When they arrived at the Burrow and Ginny opened her eyes, there was a split second when she hoped it hadn't worked and she wouldn't be back at her home. That was surpassed when she actually saw the delightfully asymmetrical house she had grown up in. If she couldn't be with Harry, this was the only other place she wanted to be.

Her mother was a little shakier than she had been when Ginny had gone to stay at Grimmauld Place a week before, but otherwise seemed perfectly normal. She really did need to stop trying to squeeze everyone to death though, Ginny thought as she took a few deep breaths to recover from her mother's embrace.

Ginny was a little amused at Harry's embarrassment when her mother thanked him for looking after her. If only she knew what kind of looking after they got up to. If Molly had been less preoccupied she probably would have, given Harry's obvious mortification. It was adorable when he rubbed his neck like that, but such a dead giveaway that sex was somehow involved.

Grateful that her mother allowed them to say a proper goodbye, Ginny ran to Harry the minute her mother disappeared. He would be leaving any time now. They didn't know when they were going to see each other again. She had a very bad feeling about this parting. It was the uncertainty about their relationship she tried to convince herself. But that didn't seem right.

Ginny pushed all of those negative thoughts away as she and Harry said their goodbyes, which required no words, just feelings. Her mother returned far too soon, hastening Harry's departure. Needing to squeeze every last second out of the little time they had remaining together Ginny followed Harry outside. She had to tell him to be careful one last time, it seemed very important. Then just when he seemed like he was about to leave she said,

"Talk to you soon," not knowing how that was going to be possible. They couldn't really send owl post to each other, and Grimmauld Place didn't have a phone, even if Ginny wanted to walk into the village to use the one there. But it was good that she had done so, because he pulled out a mirror.

At first Ginny thought that it was some sort of joke. However, he was looking very serious, even by his usual standards, so she listened to what he told her. When he got to the part about Sirius and everything that happened around that she felt her heart break a little. Harry was never going to forgive himself for something that he didn't cause. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but he was explaining how to use the mirror now.

Ginny was certain that she wouldn't forget the mirror, especially if she could keep in the forefront of her mind what had happened when Harry forgot about it. But as she stowed it quickly in her own pocket her mind was back on the fact that Harry was leaving.

They were kissing again. It was great, always had been, but now didn't seem enough. Even as they stood there, relishing the last few minutes before he left, Ginny had the urge to tell Harry not to go, or at the very least she wished time could stand still. That same bad feeling was back, and she knew now it was more than just uncertainty. Something bad was going to happen, it always did where Harry was concerned.

Time doesn't really stand still though, and all too soon Harry had kissed her one last time, told her he loved her and Disapparated. Ginny stood there, unable to take her eyes from the spot where her boyfriend had been just a moment before. She recalled all of the ups and downs of their relationship over the last couple of months.

When Harry had told her at Dumbledore's funeral that they couldn't be together she had been sad, but accepted it. She had expected he was going to do it ever since the night Dumbledore had died. That was the way he was. She hadn't really expected him to change his mind after the train journey either. It had been hard to watch him walk away from her again that day. She hadn't cried. Ginny didn't cry, growing up with six brothers you learned that tears were for wimps.

There had been an order meeting the night Voldemort appeared on Privet Drive. Ginny had been there with her parents. When they heard there was going to be an attack on the Dursleys there had been a mad dash to get enough people to go. Ginny absolutely refused to be left behind, and demanded that Charlie take her with him. There wasn't time to argue so he did. She was not going to wait like a good little girl when Harry was in trouble.

That had been a long, and event filled night. Yet, after everything that happened Harry had still stuck to his stupid noble reasons for staying away from her. This had really started to get to Ginny, especially after he was still turning to her for comfort. She had gone to bed that night, or rather, early the next morning more uncertain about where their relationship was. She knew Harry agreed his logic was flawed, but didn't know if that would change his mind. She hoped that sooner or later he'd come around.

Then there had been that dream. He wouldn't give her details about it, even now, but he had said she'd died in it. Much as Ginny didn't ever want to see Harry hurting, she was glad he'd had the dream inasmuch as it changed his mind about their being together. That had been six weeks ago.

Thinking back over all of these things, Ginny smiled a little. Harry could be frustrating as hell sometimes. But that didn't matter really, he loved her, she loved him. That was all tha counted in the long run. Last night they had proven it to each other.

Yes, she definitely loved Harry. She loved him so much it hurt. What if something happened to him? He had just left her to pursue Voldemort. He was literally walking into the line of fire. If Harry managed to come out of this war unscathed it would be a miracle.

Just after Dumbledore's death Ginny had made a resolution. No matter what Harry decided in regards to their relationship, she was not going to cry. She hadn't done either. Not at the funeral, not after the train journey, not the night they arrived at Grimmauld Place. But now, facing the fact that she might lose the person she had given her heart, soul and body to, was too much. She burst into tears and fell to her knees.

This was how Molly Weasley found her daughter ten minutes later. She didn't ask questions as she helped her back into the house and up to bed. Ginny and Harry may have thought she didn't know about how serious they had got, but she did. Mother's always do. It had been obvious to her from the moment they walked into the house. Loathe as Molly was to think of her little girl doing that, she knew it was inevitable, especially when things were so uncertain. At least Ginny loved Harry, and he loved her.

Molly was worried about Harry too, but knew that her worry didn't rival Ginny's. So much of her daughter's being was wrapped up in the boy. If he didn't come out of this war all right Molly doubted Ginny would either.


	15. 15 The Perspicacious Portrait

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE PERSPICACIOUS PORTRAIT

Having to say goodbye to Ginny for the fourth time that summer was much harder than Harry had thought it would be. It had really taken a lot out of him. He was feeling exhausted and his head was aching. Returning to Grimmauld Place, Harry was once again in a very bad mood. Like Ginny, he had a horrible feeling about this separation. The only positive thing about this whole situation was that she would be happier at the Burrow than at headquarters. Harry understood this. To a certain degree he was feeling the same way himself. Though their task was not going to be fun, it would be nice to get out of Grimmauld Place for a while.

The portrait of Mrs. Black wasn't wailing when Harry came in the door. It was quite a nice change. In fact, everything was eerily silent. It was like the house was empty. He considered going to bed and trying to get some sleep, but knew it would be pointless. In any case, now Ginny was back home, Harry was feeling antsy about getting things done. Therefore, he decided to find Ron and Hermione, hoping very much that they weren't doing something in private.

They weren't. They were still down in the kitchen, and Hermione was indeed telling Ron off for the way he had reacted in the morning. Harry could hear their conversation as he was descending the stairs.

"Ginny was leaving and you practically ignored her," Hermione snapped.

"I said goodbye," Ron retorted.

"No you didn't. You just grunted at her. That's not a proper goodbye, especially when you don't know when you are going to see her again."

"Yeah . . . well I don't know why you're even on about this. It's not like she was alone. Harry was with her," there was a hint of bitterness in Ron's tone.

"What is with you today?" Hermione asked, an aggravated note in her voice.

"Nothing," Ron snapped.

"Fine." Harry was willing to bet that Hermione had just rolled her eyes. From the exasperation in her tone, he was sure that it was not the first time that she had asked Ron that question and got the same answer.

"Oh, you're back," Hermione stated when Harry entered the kitchen.

"Obviously," Harry stated sarcastically.

"How were things at the Burrow?" she questioned.

"The same." Harry slumped down in a chair and rubbed his tired eyes. He really didn't want to talk about Ginny; he wanted to get straight to work. They needed to decide what they were going to do now. Like he had thought last night, they had wasted enough time sitting around and doing nothing. It was time for action.

"Oh . . . well that's good I guess," Hermione said. She had fixed a weak smile on her face. "No news is good news, right?"

Ron was still looking disgruntled. He looked like he was on the verge of saying or doing something. Harry watched him for a minute to see if he was going to, but he didn't, so Harry answered Hermione's question.

"Yeah. Listen, I know that I've been a little preoccupied with Ginny here, but now –"

Ron interrupted him by snorting.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," it was Ron's turn to make a sarcastic comment. This threw Harry off for a minute, and he lost his train of thought. Finding it again he continued.

"So, I think that we need to –"

"What is up with you today?" Hermione interrupted Harry, directing her furious question to Ron.

"Nothing," Ron said again.

"Stop lying," Hermione yelled at him. "If nothing's wrong, then stop acting like such a prat."

"I'm acting like a prat?" Ron shouted at her. "I'm not the one who took advantage of my girlfriend the night before I left." He was looking right at Harry as he said this.

"Ron, I'm sure that wasn't –" Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.

"Don't try to justify it Hermione. It's a disgusting thing to do."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Harry had enough of this.

"SHUT THE HELL UP YOU TWO!" he roared at them. His head was still aching, making him even more predisposed to be short-tempered. Ron's comment was not helping matters. How could he think that's what happened? They did know then, the looks on both Ron and Hermione's faces this morning were explained. But how did they know?

They complied with his order, looking stunned. Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes and aching temples. Now they were silent Harry didn't know what he wanted to say first. He didn't think that what he and Ginny did was any of Ron's business, brother or not. His statement though, needed to be addressed. There was no way that Harry wanted Ron to think that he had just taken advantage of Ginny. Even the thought of it vexed him.

Harry was quite certain this would be another one of those repetitious or circular conversations that could go on forever. It was already nearing noon, and he had no idea how long it was going to take them to come up with a plan of action. They had to get back on course.

"We've got other things to do, so I am only going to say this once," Harry stated firmly, making sure that the other two acknowledged his statement before he continued. "I neither know nor care now you know about last night. What Ginny and I do when we are alone is no one's business but ours. However –" he said loudly when Ron started to interrupt him, " – no one was taken advantage of. We didn't plan on that happening, but it did. We can't and wouldn't change it. That's all I am going to say on this matter."

"You'd better hope Ginny feels that way," Ron muttered angrily.

"She does," Harry assured him. He decided not to tell Ron that it had been Ginny that had initiated things. "Now that's been said though, we have other important things to discuss."

"What Harry?" Hermione inquired.

"Where to start," he said. "I want to get moving on this as soon as possible. We've wasted way too much time here doing useless research. If Kreacher hadn't had the locket we wouldn't have even found any of the Horcruxes yet."

They made lunch and continued to brainstorm. Hermione, for once, seemed as devoid of good ideas as Harry and Ron. She had been through a good portion of the books at the library in Grimmauld Place and had found nothing useful. Her failsafe having failed her, she didn't have any suggestions. Ron, after Harry's statement, seemed more like his old self. He was making hilarious comments about Hermione's predicament.

Several hours later they had adjourned to the only other room they ever went to, other than the library. Ron and Hermione sat on the moth-eaten sofa, while Harry was slumped in the chair across from them. Ron, now completely over his sour mood from the morning, was joking that they should just go outside and try 'accio'ing the Horcruxes. It was so ludicrous an idea, that Harry and Hermione could do nothing but laugh.

Out of ideas for the present, Hermione decided to go back to the library. She accepted that it was unlikely she was going to find anything useful, but said she hadn't completely given up hope. She also made a point of saying that it was better than doing nothing. Ron left with her, to go and feed the owls. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon were staying in Buckbeak's old room.

"So . . . Ginny's gone again?" Dudley's voice preceded him into the drawing room.

"Yeah," Harry answered, resting is head on the high back of the winged chair he had been lolling in.

"That sucks," Dudley commented. "But I daresay you had quite the goodbye, eh?" There was a sly smile on his face. Did everybody know about last night? Had they all had their ear pressed to the door or something?

When Harry didn't answer, Dudley's smile increased. In the weeks that he had been staying here at Grimmauld Place he had fallen back into his old annoying self.

"You've done well for yourself. I don't think Ron's having as much luck." That slimy grin Dudley wore widened even further. "Hermione's quite the prude it seems, at least you landed the hot one that puts out –"

Harry was on his feet in an instant. When Dudley had made his first comment about last night Harry's hands had clenched into fists. His cousin's obsession with Ginny always irked him. The comments about Ron and Hermione had irritated him a little more. His annoyance with his cousin growing for weeks, it was this last comment that finally drove Harry over the edge. He didn't even think of reaching for his wand, instead he projected his already clenched fist at Dudley's face. When his hand made contact he felt and heard a crunching noise. Blood was pouring down Dudley's face, Harry had broken his nose.

This event had done two things. It had shut Dudley up. Well, it had got him to stop spouting his suggestive remarks in any case. It had also calmed Harry down. Despite all of the times that Dudley had deserved it, Harry had never hit him. Given the types of things that he was saying, Harry was a little surprised Dudley's nose was all he had broken. He felt a little guilty though, whether his cousin deserved it or not.

Pulling out his wand, Harry took a few steps closer to his cousin, who recoiled. Hands over his nose to stem the flow of blood, Dudley was looking at him, with a fearful and shocked expression. It was like he had never seen Harry before.

"Stop moving," Harry said, raising his wand. "I'm going to fix your nose. Move your hands."

Dudley did nothing of the sort. He just hurried back a few more steps.

"Stop moving," Harry demanded again, advancing faster than his cousin and grabbing his arm. He yanked Dudley's hands away from his face. Pointing his wand at the broken nose, Harry muttered, "episkey."

Dudley's nose now resembling its normal swinish form, Harry wanted Dudley to get out of his sight.

"Go find Hermione, she can clean up that blood for you," he told his cousin, not looking at him. Harry slumped back in the chair he had vacated just a minute before. Dudley, probably because he was scared of being attacked again, left the room.

Harry had arrived back at Grimmauld Place many hours ago now, yet the headache was still with him. This tiny altercation with Dudley had done nothing to alleviate it. This really should not have surprised Harry; the Dursleys never did make life simple, even now.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had leased a flat a few streets away from Grimmauld Place and would be moving in a few days. Harry had tried several times to change their minds. Uncle Vernon, having regained much of his formidable personality, yelled at Harry that they were not going to remain prisoners in this house, and that he wanted to get as far away from Harry as was possible. During one of his characteristic tirades he brought up the death of his sister, the first time he had done so to Harry's face. He was still holding onto the belief that Harry had caused the death of Aunt Marge. In the end, against his better judgment, Harry agreed to let his aunt, uncle and cousin leave.

Their timing was good as Harry, Ron and Hermione were going to be leaving soon themselves. If he thought this would be the end to the stupid lessons with Dudley, Harry was sorely mistaken. Aunt Petunia had made a point of telling Harry that they were not moving too far away so it would be easy for Dudley to continue with them. Harry had groaned at this.

Dudley had finally mastered levitation, after what felt like a million hours of work. They were now working on teaching him the disarming spell. This lesson was riddled with new problems. Dudley wasn't trying to modify the incantation; In this case, whether on purpose or because he was just that stupid, Dudley could not seem to remember "Expelliarmus." At the end of each lesson it would seem like he was making progress, but they would be back at square one the next time they started to work.

Now that the owls were staying in Buckbeak's old room, it was no longer safe to be practicing magic there. Hermione had fixed up one of the other unused rooms for them to work in. She had made it so safe that Dudley would be able to practice even when they weren't there. About a month earlier, Hermione had a great idea and ordered a Kwikspell course for Dudley, so he could learn the basics in addition to what they were teaching him. Harry had been annoyed, but not entirely surprised, several lessons later, when he discovered that Dudley had not even touched those lessons.

Harry expected Hermione to come bursting in to reprimand him about his attack on Dudley, but she didn't. In fact the first person that came into the room was one that Harry hadn't seen for two months.

"Sit up straight Potter!" said a stern voice. Harry jumped and quickly corrected his posture. Then he turned to see the smiling face of Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry Professor," he said automatically. It was a minute before he realized that he wasn't at school and didn't have to do so, and another little bit to clue into the fact that she was joking.

"No apologies needed. How has your summer been going?" Professor McGonagall sat on the couch across from Harry.

"Er . . . " It had been mostly lousy with a few bright spots, but Harry wasn't sure he wanted to discuss this with his former teacher. Most of the reason it had been so bad was because of the Horcruxes, which he couldn't discuss. Even the other events though were not ones Harry felt comfortable revealing to the new headmistress. If it had been Lupin, or even Dumbledore Harry might have already been spilling the details. Professor McGonagall however, wasn't a woman to whom one could easily divulge emotional struggles.

"I would imagine it hasn't been very pleasant," McGonagall answered her own question. "What with having to stay here for getting on two months now, and the issues with Miss. Weasley. If you ever need to talk Harry . . . "

She was wearing that same compassionate look as she had the day of Dumbledore's funeral. For one of the few times in his life, Harry actually felt that he could perhaps confide a little more in McGonagall.

"I hear from Miss. Granger that you, Mr. Weasley and she are not coming back to school in the fall," McGonagall commented, breaking the silence. "Are you sure that's the wisest decision?"

"It's what has to be done," Harry told her, tensing as he said this. Was she now going to start questioning him on where he and Dumbledore had gone that night two months before?

"Your education is important Potter," Professor McGonagall stated in her stern voice.

"I know it is, but there are other things that are important too. Things that Professor Dumbledore . . . Professor?"

A thought had just occurred to Harry. He and his friends didn't know where to start in this hunt. Dumbledore wasn't really there for advice, but his portrait was. Harry didn't know how much information he would be able to get from Dumbledore's portrait, but it was worth a try. "Would I be able to come and have a word with Professor Dumbledore's portrait?"

"I can't see why not," McGonagall said slowly. "What would you like to speak to Dumbledore about Harry?"

Harry knew he would have to give a little here. McGonagall was not likely to let him come down with no apparent purpose.

"It has to do with my part in this war, and where we went that night," he admitted, "but Professor please don't ask me for more than that. Like I told you before, Professor Dumbledore asked me not to share the details with anyone else."

McGonagall considered Harry for a minute before she responded in the affirmative.

"Come by the school around ten tomorrow morning Potter. I'll see that you have some time alone."

"Thank you Professor." Harry stood up and shook her hand. Other members of the Order had started arriving. Another meeting was about to take place. Harry excused himself and went to tell Ron and Hermione what the current plan was.

It was just before ten the next morning when Harry appeared in front of the winged boars. He couldn't get through the gates because of the extra security that was in place. He was to wait for someone to come down and let him in. Feeling a little nervous at being out on his own, so near the school, Harry was even more thankful that he had decided to don the invisibility cloak as he left Grimmauld Place.

As he waited, Harry stared up at the castle. He was feeling ambivalent about this visit. Hogwarts had been the place that Harry had felt most at home. On the one hand he hoped that coming back here would be profitable in terms of answers Dumbledore could offer. On the other hand, the spot where Harry was standing was very near the one where Snape and Draco had disappeared.

Harry's eyes started to turn towards the tower that Dumbledore had fallen from, but they were redirected when he saw Hagrid making his way down to the gate. He pulled off the invisibility cloak as the gamekeeper came nearer.

"Harry, how're yeh?" Hagrid asked as he opened the gates.

"Hi Hagrid."

"How was Godric's Hollow? Didn't have a chance to talk to yeh after that."

"It was . . . OK. Pretty place," Harry admitted. A full account of everything that had happened in the village would take too long, and he didn't really feel like talking about it anyway.

They walked up to the castle, Hagrid doing most of the talking, about Fang, Buckbeak, and his other charges. It didn't escape Harry's notice that Hagrid avoided mentioning Dumbledore, or anything to do with the former headmaster or current headmistress.

Never having been to the school during the summer, Harry noticed how odd it was to walk through halls completely devoid of students. He might have been projecting, but to Harry the castle seemed sad and lonely without the usual hustle and bustle that was common during the school year.

Harry's trek up to the headmistress's office was not completely solitary though. He had the unfortunate luck to come across Filch, Mrs. Norris, and Peeves. The cat followed him all the way up to McGonagall's office, no doubt on Filch's orders. Peeves didn't follow though. He, Filch, Harry and the cat met at the same spot. The poltergeist seemed to derive more enjoyment out of following the caretaker than Harry.

Walking down the seventh floor corridor to Dumbledore's – no McGonagall's office, Harry corrected himself, he was feeling a little odd. That familiar sense of guilt was coming back. Dumbledore had done a lot for Harry over the years, and he had spent a good portion of the last few years feeling a little annoyed at the great wizard. Harry had never really stopped and thought that he might not like what Dumbledore was doing, but these actions had always had been in his best interest.

As he rode up the spiral staircase hidden behind the stone gargoyle, Harry was given a reprieve from his miserable musings by thinking about the password he had just given the statue. This time it was Ginger Newts. Did the gargoyle outside have a sweet tooth? The only passwords that Harry had ever known to get into this office had to do with food, and more particularly candies.

"Come in," McGonagall called in response to Harry's knock. For the briefest second when Harry had rapped on the heavy oak door he was sure it would be Dumbledore's voice that would call out, "enter."

"Potter, right on time." She was halfway to the door when he pushed it open. Harry looked around the magnificent office as he made his way over to McGonagall. He didn't know what he had expected, but was surprised to see that nothing had changed.

McGonagall, seeing his reaction, looked around herself, and then explained, "I know that it's my office now, but I couldn't bear to make any changes."

"Right," Harry said. He was pretty sure he understood how she felt. McGonagall was an able witch, but there wasn't really anyone that could compare to Dumbledore. She had very large shoes to fill.

"I have some things that I must attend to. I should be able to give you about an hour. Will that be sufficient?" McGonagall asked, returning Harry's attention to the task at hand.

"I don't – I think so," he responded. He had no idea how long of a conversation he was going to have with Dumbledore. Would the headmaster be able to give him loads of information, or would he tell Harry that it was up to him now. If an hour wasn't enough time, Harry guessed he could always come back later.

"All right, I shall see you in an hour." McGonagall left the office.

Harry made his way over to the newest picture of former headmasters. Dumbledore was in the same position as Harry had last seen him, slumbering in his golden frame.

Not quite ready to awaken the portrait, Harry looked around the circular office again. It really didn't seem like Dumbledore had left. Everything here was still his after all. The silver instruments, some of which Harry recognized, some he still didn't, were whirring and puffing away in their various cabinets, or spindle-legged tables. The claw-footed desk that Dumbledore used to sit behind was in the same place as it always had been. There were only two differences. The first was that Dumbledore's portrait was now on the wall, among the former headmasters and headmistresses. The other change was the empty perch where Fawkes usually stood.

Harry stared at Dumbledore's portrait from the other side of the desk. Now he was here he was wondering if this was the right thing. During another visit to this very office one of the other portraits had said that they were bound to serve the current head of the school. Did this mean that McGonagall would be able to get information from Dumbledore about what he and Harry discussed. If that were the case it might not be a good idea to talk to the portrait. Dumbledore had made a point of telling Harry that he didn't want anyone else to know except Ron and Hermione. He debated for a few minutes about what to do, and then Harry decided to throw caution to the wind. He hadn't come all this way to turn around and go home, none the wiser.

"Er . . . hello Professor Dumbledore," Harry said quietly, walking over to stand in front of the portrait. Dumledore was still slumbering in the golden frame, his glasses perched on the edge of his crooked nose. When Harry spoke Dumbledore's eyes flickered, and then opened. They were the same blue as before, but the twinkle that usually shone in them wasn't there.

"Harry, to what do I owe this great pleasure?" Dumbledore smiled.

"I wanted to talk to you sir . . . about Voldemort."

"Yes?"

"Well, last year when we were having our lessons, did you . . . I mean, is there anything else that I would need to know?"

Dumbledore seemed to think about this question for a minute before he answered. "No Harry. We covered everything. There's nothing further that I can tell you about Voldemort."

Harry had been afraid of this. He still felt woefully inept when it came to this task. He had hoped that the headmaster would have been able to instill one or two nuggets of useful advice in his mind.

"How is your task coming along?" Dumbledore asked when Harry remained silent.

"Not well," Harry admitted. "We found the locket. It was at Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore looked bewildered. Remembering Dumbledore didn't know the locket in the cave was a fake; Harry explained everything, along with how he had eventually destroyed it.

"I thought as much," Dumbledore said to himself. "Harry, you were able to destroy that locket with a spell that would not have worked for anyone else."

"Why?"

"Love," Dumbledore said simply.

"What?" Harry was confused.

"We have discussed this before Harry. You have a power that Voldemort always underestimates. It is your ability to love. The spell used to make a Horcrux is one that requires pure evil, and very strong Dark Magic. The only counter for that is it's exact opposite. As you well know there is no shield against an Unforgivable Curse, yet you survived. The sacrifice Lily made out of love was the only thing that could have saved you."

"Yes, but . . . " Harry had understood his mother's sacrifice for a long time now. What was Dumbledore talking about though, how did his ability to love tie in with the fact that he was able to use a Reductor Curse to destroy the locket?

"Let me explain a little better. It is a little known fact that every spell we perform requires some force of mind. That is why the same spell can sometimes have such minimal or devastating effects. In your case Harry it didn't matter as much about what spell you used as what you were thinking about. If you were thinking about those you cared about that carries through with your spell. The bit of soul that Voldemort hid inside the object could not stand the impact of a spell infused with love, much as Voldemort could not stand to possess you that night at the Ministry.

"This task will be much easier for you than for many others because of your ability to love. I will not lie to you and tell you that it will all be easy. As you saw in the cave, the spells and enchantments guarding the Horcrux are likely to be difficult and dangerous. Never forget that this is Voldemort you are dealing with. The jinxes that he puts in place can be very nasty. He cares little for the lives of others."

"Right. Sir, can I ask you something?" Harry was wondering once again why his scar had hurt when he had destroyed the locket but not when he had destroyed the diary.

"Certainly Harry."

"Well, like I said, when I first tried to destroy the locket my scar hurt, and I felt sick. That was when I was getting angry. Why didn't that happen when I destroyed the diary?"

"Interesting question Harry," Dumbledore seemed to think for a minute. "I have a guess, merely that. In relation to the diary, I am sure you were not as angry then. Be that as it may, you didn't destroy the diary with a spell, but with basilisk venom. Your scar hurt this time because that's the part of you most strongly connected with Voldemort. We've discussed this before also. He transferred some powers to you the night he failed to murder you. I am much mistaken if he didn't transfer some of himself as well. I daresay that part shows itself most strongly when you get angry. That unalloyed evil was trying to dominate over your own nature, a fight enough to make anyone sick. And of course your scar, as the source of that evil, would feel the brunt of the struggle.

A horrible thought was occurring to Harry. This wasn't the first time that Dumbledore had said Voldemort had left a part of himself inside Harry.

"Sir, when you say Voldemort left a part of himself inside me. You don't mean . . . I'm not . . . "

"No Harry, I do not believe you are a Horcrux, nor is any part of you a Horcrux. Before Voldemort's downfall he only had one meeting with you. I am glad to say it takes much more than a failed spell to create a Horcrux."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that destroying a Horcrux entailed having to blast apart it's container. The thought of having to do that to himself was a little troubling, to say the least.

"How are Ron and Hermione handling living at Grimmauld Place? And Miss. Weasley, how is she doing?" Dumbledore asked. He had a knowing smile on his face as well. There was no possible way that he could have known what had happened between Harry and Ginny night before last. Harry felt himself go red at the thought. But bringing up Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Grimmauld Place brought back to Harry's mind everything that had transpired around them. He advised Dumbledore of this as well.

"Yes, I had an inkling about Dudley,' Dumbledore admitted. Harry wasn't really shocked by this. The great wizard's insight was unsurpassed. "I am glad to hear that you were able to come to your senses about Ginevra Weasley," he was smiling again. "As a couple you two remind me a lot of your parents Harry."

This was the second person that had said that. Harry wasn't sure if he should feel gratitude or not. He supposed if he was to believe everything his aunt said about how much his parents loved each other, being compared to them could only be a good thing. He just hoped that Ginny didn't go the same way as his own mother though.

"So, have you any ideas about where to look for the next Horcrux?" Dumbledore inquired.

"No. We've been trying to find anything that might help us, but the stupid library at Grimmauld Place is useless," Harry stated, feeling some of the frustration come back. This visit, although pleasant, seemed to be leading him nowhere fast.

"Well, might I suggest that when in doubt, starting at the beginning is a good idea."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I would also recommend some review. Harry I would like you to take the pensieve. You shall find that all of the memories we viewed throughout the year are still present in the basin," Dumbledore didn't answer Harry's question.

"OK," Harry responded slowly. "Thank you Professor."

"I have a few other suggestions for you as well Harry. Keep those you love close. Love is your strength, use it. The other I am sure you will not be pleased with, if you should stumble please turn to Severus. He is posing as a Death Eater and –"

"I will not," Harry said furiously, through clenched teeth.

"Harry, I know that you and he rather detest each other. But for the sake of the greater good –"

"He murdered you. You're dead because of Snape. Right after he did that he ran off to tell Voldemort. He's right in the Dark Lord's inner circle and you want me to trust him. He'd probably run right to Voldemort and tell him everything," Harry ranted at Dumbledore. Trusting was one thing, but this was insane.

Dumbledore sighed, "Things are not always what they seem Harry. Good day, and good Luck." With these final words, Dumbledore went back to snoozing in his frame.

Trust Snape? Not in a million years! The murdering coward of a traitor had been getting away with things for too damn long. He had been into the dark arts since his school days, he had tried in vain to get the Marauder's thrown out. He had eavesdropped on a private conversation, overhearing half a prophecy, which he then reported to Voldemort, causing the snake to murder Harry's parents. He had sold some story to Dumbledore about changing his ways to avoid jail time. He had treated Harry and countless other students like rubbish, and to top all that, had murdered Dumbledore. No, there was no way Harry was ever going to turn to Snape for anything, except maybe to kill him.

"Trust Snape! Not in this lifetime," Ron said hotly. Harry had just finished giving him and Hermione a full account of everything that Dumbledore had said. They, like Harry, were not likely to forgive the overgrown bat, or give him another chance.

"So how did Dumbledore find the ring?" Hermione asked.

"He just said he found it in the ruins of the Gaunt house. Why he wanted to go there in the first place . . . " Harry trailed off. Knowing Voldemort's history had been important to Dumbledore, and was supposed to help Harry survive. It had been the link in proving that he had made Horcruxes, and allowed them to narrow down the objects that they were looking for.

Harry slapped his forehead so hard he let out a yelp of pain. He had just cottoned onto the obvious thing that Dumbledore had said. Start at the beginning was the suggestion.

"What?" Ron and Hermione asked at the same time.

"Always ignore the obvious," Harry said, more to himself than the others. "He showed me all that stuff so that we'd know where to start. We're going to have to go back to all of those places, and recheck them for clues."

Ron and Hermione did nothing but stare at him.

"But Harry, surely Dumbledore checked them thoroughly," Hermione stated.

"Maybe, but he wants us to start there again anyway," Harry told her patiently. "And I agree. It's as good a place to start as any. We've wasted enough time here, I want to start this tomorrow."

Ron and Hermione were looking unsure.

"O – OK," Ron spoke up, a little nervously. "Where are we starting?" he asked, putting an arm around Hermione's trembling shoulders.

"At the beginning, where Voldemort's parents met. We're going to Little Hangleton."


	16. 16 Little Hangleton

CHAPTER SIXTEEN; LITTLE HANGLETON

It was a simple spell, Hermione had told Harry. The two-way mirrors communicated between each other. All you had to do was say the name of the person that had the other mirror and you could then talk to them. Whichever way the mirrors worked, Harry was glad Ginny's comment had reminded him to give it to her.

They had talked the night she had returned to the Burrow. It was idle chatter for the most part. She was just explaining how her mother was already driving her crazy, and how she didn't know if she would be able to handle staying at the Burrow all year. Ginny explained, when Harry asked what she meant by that comment, that her mother and father (mostly her mother she thought) had decided it was not safe for her to return to school. Molly and Arthur were going to teach their daughter at home this year. He would never admit it to Ginny because she seemed thoroughly annoyed at this development, but Harry was glad of the Weasleys decision.

Tonight they were talking again. Ginny was prattling on about her mother once more. Harry let her go on for a while. He knew he needed to tell her they were leaving the next day. The worried look she was bound to get on her face was holding him back though.

Ginny's reaction was much as he had expected. When Harry told her they might not be able to talk for a few days her eyes widened and then that same fearful look came into them.

"Don't worry, we'll be careful," Harry assured her.

"I hope so," Ginny replied. "Don't do anything stupid though, OK?"

"Me? Do something stupid? Never!" Harry quipped. This comment made Ginny smile, albeit weakly.

"Can you at least tell me where you're going?" she asked casually.

Harry raised an eyebrow at this question. The last time Hermione had told Ginny where they were going she had turned up. Ginny had said she didn't want to come with them on their quest. Harry believed her, but wasn't going to give her the opportunity, just in case. "No, I can't."

"I figured as much," she sighed. "Be careful out there."

"Always."

The sun wasn't even peaking into the grimy, rubbish strewn square that housed Order headquarters when Harry was shaking Ron and Hermione awake. They had spent the night together. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with the task at hand he probably would have commented on their new sleeping arrangements. Instead, Harry told them that they needed to get going and that the pair should get up.

"Why do we have to leave so bloody early?' Ron grumbled as he, Hermione and Harry gulped down some food, making ready to leave. "Why the sudden urgency?"

"It's not sudden. This is what we should have been doing for the last two months," Harry stated. "If we – OK – if I hadn't been so focused on other things we would have been. We have to make up for that lost time though."

Ron didn't make any other comments, but still looked disgruntled as they exited Grimmauld Place and Disapparated.

Strangely it was their olfactory as opposed to their visual sense that kicked in, altering them they were no longer in London. The air was fresher here, and smelled of newly cut grass. The greenery either side of the dirt road they were standing on, was glistening with water droplets, either from early morning dew or a recent rain. The only sound came from birds chirping in the hedgerows, which were more tangled than they had been decades earlier in Bob Ogden's memory.

"You know, I feel like I've been here before," Ron joked, trying to lighten the mood, which was heavy with apprehension.

"Come on, it's this way," Harry told them. He pointed to the arm on the signpost, which read: Little Hangleton, 1 mile.

They began to walk down the country lane; the one Harry had walked down twice before, once with Dumbledore and again yesterday with Ron and Hermione when they were revisiting Bob Ogden's memory. When the tall, tangled shrubs gave way, and the lane began to slope downwards Hermione let out a little gasp.

"Wow," was her comment. She had a point. It was quite a change from walking down a lane bordered on both sides by wild shrubbery, to a sudden and stunning view of the village of Little Hangleton.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped to take in the sight. Not much had changed in the village over the last seventy years. Like Godric's Hollow, it had preserved its quaint air. It didn't look as though Little Hangleton had expanded much in recent decades. Harry doubted whether the terrain would allow for easy growth, the steep hills that bordered the village looked like they would be hard to build on.

The church looked no different than it had when they had noticed it in the pensieve, no different than it had the night that Harry had arrived in the graveyard via portkey, when Cedric had been murdered, the night Voldemort had returned.

Looking away from both the church and the graveyard, Harry's eyes fell on the large manor house. Even from this distance the change in the house was quite obvious. In the memory it had been a large and beautiful house with immaculately manicured lawns and gardens. Now, the lawn was quite long, the ivy that covered the house was growing unchecked, and the roof seemed almost completely devoid of tiles.

"We should go," Harry told the others, tearing his eyes away from that house. Without question they started to walk again.

They came to the gap in the hedge and took the little dirt path that lead to what had once been the Gaunt house. The thick trees that hid the house from view were casting huge shadows over the ground, giving the three teens an even more unsettling feeling than they already had.

"So where do we start?" Ron asked as they made their way slowly down the crooked, and rocky path.

"With the house," Harry supplied, stumbling a little on one of the potholes. "See if we can get in and have a look around. Dumbledore said the house was in ruins though, so I don't know if there will be anything to get into at all."

Ruins might have been a bit of an understatement. The tiny building had been an appalling testament to a house decades before. Now, whether due to time, or Dumbledore's actions, the house had completely caved in. It was now just a pile of broken glass, wood, and tile.

"We're not going to find anything here," Hermione stated, looking around the rubble dejectedly. "It would take days to sift through all of this, to look for clues. I still don't know what exactly we're looking for here anyway, Harry. You-know . . . Voldemort is unlikely to have left more than just the ring here."

"Who knows, maybe we'll find the cup," Harry said, not believing this himself. Hermione was absolutely right. Voldemort wasn't stupid enough to store two Horcruxes in the same place. If he had been, Dumbledore surely would have found it. "No, I don't think we'll find a Horcrux here. But maybe we'll find a clue of where another one is, or how Dumbledore got the first one, or something. I dunno to be honest, I just think that we need to look."

It would have taken weeks, perhaps even months, for Harry, Ron and Hermione to look through all the rubble had they not been able to use magic. Even so, they were using spells very sparingly, because they weren't sure if there was any residual Dark Magic left over, and didn't really want to chance causing a catastrophe. They were begrudgingly relying more on manual labor.

The sun had risen properly, making the three teens thankful for the shade of the trees. Nonetheless it was a humid day, and their efforts to move the rubble around were causing them all to sweat profusely.

"Nothing here either," Ron said grumpily, several hours after they had started. "Harry, I think there's nothing here but this pile of rubbish. Maybe we're wasting our time." Ron collapsed on the ground and leaned back against one of the trees.

"He's got a point," Hermione stated, moping her brow as she joined Ron.

Why Dumbledore had even told them to come here was a mystery to Harry. Start at the beginning. Well this was the beginning for Voldemort. But Dumbledore had already found the ring. Could there really be anything else to find, or were they just wasting more time they didn't have?

Feeling frustration set in again, Harry redoubled his efforts. Sifting through the pile of rubbish by hand was taking way too long. He pulled out his wand and started levitating some of the bigger pieces out of the way. He was no longer concerned about residual Dark Magic.

Having moved all of the largest pieces, Harry was able to get a little closer to where the front door had once been. He cautiously stepped over the nonexistent threshold.

"Oh . . . Harry, be careful," Hermione moaned, when she saw what he was doing. He didn't comment as he walked slowly into what was left of the house, now just a floor, with a few broken pieces of wall standing, jagged edges threatening the unwary visitor.

Harry stopped in approximately the same place as he had done when viewing Marvolo Gaunt's horrendous treatment of his daughter. His foot had kicked something. It felt rather like a stone, but when he looked down it was glinting in a small ray of sun that had managed to penetrate the thick trees. Stones don't glint he thought. Bending down, Harry saw that it wasn't a stone at all, but a ring. In fact, it was Marvolo Gaunt's ring; the one Voldemort had turned into a Horcrux.

What was it doing here? Dumbledore had destroyed the ring, or at least the Horcrux portion of it, that was probably where the crack in the gaudy stone had come from. It seemed a mysterious and silly thing for Dumbledore to do, bringing the ring back here.

"Look at this," Harry called to Ron and Hermione as he picked up the ring. He went over to show them. "Why d'you think he would have brought it back here?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied, eyeing the ring apprehensively. "Maybe we should just leave it here though."

"I don't think so," Harry stated slowly. It didn't seem the right thing to do.

"But Harry, if Dumbledore left it here he had to have a reason. Maybe it's still cursed or something."

"Why leave it somewhere for a Muggle to find then? Dumbledore would definitely not let something like this go back into the world if there were still a danger to it," Harry observed. He had probably left it here for Harry to find. That made sense, especially after the comment about starting at the beginning. Exactly why he would want Harry to find it this way, rather than just giving it to him wasn't clear. Then there was the obvious question of why Dumbledore would want Harry to have the ring at all. Harry didn't have the answer to any of these questions yet.

"D'you think there's anything else here?" Ron asked.

Harry considered his question for a minute. He didn't think so. They hadn't even been sure that there would be anything here at all. Finding the ring, despite the mysterious circumstances, was all they were going to find here. Coming to this conclusion he shook his head.

"Good, can we leave now? This place is a little freaky."

"Yeah, but . . ." Even though he was almost positive that there was nothing further at the Gaunt house, Harry wanted to look around the village a little more. It was a small hope, but like he had felt in Godric's Hollow, maybe some of the inhabitants could tell them something about the Gaunts, or possibly the Riddles. "I'm not ready to leave Little Hangleton yet. I think there's more here that we can learn."

It was soon settled that they would make their way into the village. As it was nearing lunch they would try and find a pub or restaurant to eat in. The trio descended into the valley the village was set in and made their way to the one pub they saw. It was an establishment called The Hanged Man.

This pub was in sharp contrast to the one in Godric's Hollow. The innkeepers in Harry's former home were warm and pleasant. Their pub may have been dark, but was cheerful. This pub was dark and dingy. When they entered they were not greeted cheerily, but by a gruff female voice.

"Hello," the slightly hoarse voice said. It was not surprising that she had a hoarse voice, what with all of the smoke that was hanging in the air.

"H – h – hello," Hermione responded. She was choking on all of the smoke in the room.

"Not from around here?" asked the hoarse voice.

"Er, no. We were hoping to partake of some food and drink," Hermione replied.

"You gonna pay?"

This seemed an odd question. Why would this person assume that they wouldn't pay? Looking at Ron and Hermione, and then down at himself, Harry understood. They were covered in dirt and dust. Ron and Hermione's hair and face were messy and caked with dust as well. Harry was sure he looked no better.

"Of course," Ron replied, a little bite in his remark.

"And a place to clean up, if you would be so kind." Hermione spoke, giving Ron a warning look. It was clear that she was telling him to watch what he said.

"All right." The barwoman was eyeing them suspiciously as she came around to show them to a private room, for which they were grateful.

"Mental," Ron muttered a few minutes later, after they had requested their food and the woman had left to get it. "I mean what was that all about?"

"Not everyone is going to be like the Clarks," Hermione said, as she started to wash her hands in a basin of water.

"With people like the Gaunts living here, can you really blame them?" Harry asked. He had sunk into one of the chairs, and was rubbing his eyes. They were itching again, due to lack of sleep, and rubbing them with hands full of dust wasn't helping.

"Did I hear you mention the name Gaunt?" the woman with the hoarse voice asked as she came back into the room. She was eyeing them warily. She now seemed both keen to know more, but not sure if she should trust them yet. "You related to them or something?"

"Er . . . no," Harry said. Maybe she would be able to tell them something that they didn't already know. Would she want to know the reason that they were there though? They obviously couldn't tell her that they were two wizards and a witch, searching for bits of soul. Honestly, that would be the type of thing only believable to a paranoid schizophrenic, and the last thing they needed was to have to answer questions to a psychiatrist.

The woman seemed too keen to tell the story to care how they knew who the Gaunts were. She pulled a chair up to the table and, without asking or being invited, sat down.

"There's this story, goes back decades now. It involves them Gaunts, and the rich family that lived up at the Riddle house yonder." She pointed in the direction of the large manor house. "I dunno how much of it's true, or even if the two events are related, but people around here seem to think they are."

She looked from Harry to Ron and then finally at Hermione as if making sure they were paying attention.

"Years ago now . . . getting on seventy years if my math's right, there was this family of nutters that lived up the hill." She pointed in the direction of the Gaunt House. "They went by the name of Gaunt. If I remember proper, it was Marvolo and his son and daughter, Merope and Muffin or something –"

"Morfin," Harry corrected automatically. The woman looked at him skeptically.

"That's right. Well anyway, they were odd folks. Kept themselves to themselves for the most part, and it was good too. The son, Morfin you say? Well he had this huge fascination with snakes, used to nail them to the door of their house or something. Really odd behaviour, he'd come down to the village every once in a while to bully the people. Rumor says that he was particularly fond of the son of the people who owned the manor. I dunno if that's true or something that was added later to tie the two stories together. Wouldn't surprise me if it were true though.

"So, one day Marvolo and this Morfin character disappear. Merope, the daughter you know, well she always had a fancy for Tom Riddle, the rich son. Shortly after her brother and father disappeared, she did too. Up and ran off with Tom Riddle . Had the whole village in an uproar. As far as anyone knew he'd never even given her a second glance, well who would?

"If that had been the end of it, I'm sure no one would have cared two shakes about this whole story, but it wasn't. Couple of months later young Tom Riddle came back. Apparently the hag had lied and said she was pregnant to get him to marry her. Wouldn't be the first time that happened round here, believe you me," the raspy voiced woman explained when Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged incredulous looks. This woman obviously did not know that Merope Gaunt had indeed been pregnant.

"This is where the story gets even stranger though. We never saw Merope again. Life went on for oh . . . about sixteen years I'd say, normal as could be. Then one night Tom Riddle, his mother and father were murdered in their house. The gardener, Frank Bryce, was suspected. Taken in for questioning he was. Everything pointed to him as the killer. But the police never charged him. No one knows for certain why that was, but the story going around here is that they couldn't find any evidence of murder.

"Frank stayed around though, in the cabin on the Riddle grounds. He would tell anyone he met that he was innocent, course no one believed him. Still don't. But we don't know what happened to Frank. He was puttering around on the grounds one day, next he was gone. People've gone up there, and it doesn't look like he left, all his stuff's still there, but he's disappeared. That's why the great mystery. There's something creepy about that house. No one likes to go near it. Kids'll go up there every now and then, for a dare, but . . . " she trailed off.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were exchanging dark looks. Again this was not new information to them. Harry was wondering if that 'creepy' feeling that the villagers had could be attributed to more than just wild rumor and speculation. Could there actually be something in the Riddle House. This was presumably the place where Voldemort had committed his first murders. Would he have felt it significant enough to place a Horcrux there?

"So what're you three doing in Little Hangleton anyway?" the innkeeper asked. Her enthusiasm for telling the village's mystery had faded, and she was back to her initial suspicious manner. The trio exchanged another look. None of them had a ready answer for this question.

"How do you know the Gaunts? And why're you all dirty?" Her skepticism increased and her eyes narrowed. If one of them didn't come up with a story fast they were likely to be thrown out of the pub, and possibly be subjected to a police interrogation.

"We're . . . uh . . . getting married, and were looking at possibly settling down here," Hermione invented wildly, putting a hand around Ron's back. He looked shocked for a second at her declaration, but fixed a smile on his face as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"Really? Congratulations," the woman's eyes were narrowed. She didn't seem to buy this story. "Well, I'll get your food for you," she stated and backed out of the room, apparently still sizing them up.

When the door closed, Ron and Hermione let go of each other.

"Getting married?" Ron asked, aghast. Hermione blushed a little.

"It was the first thing that I could think of," she admitted, not daring to look at Ron.

"Hermione I don't think . . . er . . . " Ron stammered. "Don't you think it's a little . . .premature to be thinking about that sort of thing. I mean it was Bill who lost his mind and –"

Harry could have told Ron before he even opened his mouth that Hermione's statement was not a good thing to dispute at this point. But as he hadn't said anything, his friend started blundering his way through this conversation.

"Would that be such a terrible thing?" Hermione interrupted dramatically, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah – I mean, no – well . . . "

"Stop talking, now," Harry advised in a whisper. He had too much experience in the area of saying the absolute wrong thing to let Ron trundle on and dig himself an early grave. Thankfully, Ron took his advice.

"Hmphf," Hermione stated. She slumped back down in her own chair, and refused to speak to Ron.

Harry, sensing a colossal row coming on, decided to intervene. "I think we need to check out that house this afternoon."

This did the trick. Ron and Hermione looked at him instead.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Surely you don't think Voldemort stored a Horcrux there?"

"He might have done," Harry said. "That's where he committed his first murders right? Surely that would be a significant event for him."

"Uh, but you heard what that woman said. It's a little creepy," Hermione said, a little desperately.

"Oh, come on Hermione, where's your Gryffindor courage?" Ron asked her bitingly. "I'm with Harry, we need to check out that place."

"Of course you would be. You don't always use your sense," she snapped at him.

Apparently Harry had not been able to circumvent their row, he just delayed it. He decided to try again. They were going to the Riddle House in a very short amount of time, and he wanted them focused and not fighting.

"Guys, come on. We haven't got time for this." Neither of them seemed to want to back down from their stubborn positions. Harry sighed and donned his well-worn problem resolution cap. Why did it seem like he always had to break up Ron and Hermione's rows? And this one in particular was really stupid. They were seventeen. Why was Hermione even thinking about marriage? This couldn't still stem from her unabashed gushing during Bill and Fleur's nuptials.

"Ron, were you really saying that you never wanted to get married?" Harry was sure he wasn't, but shot his friend a warning look in any case. Ron shook his head.

"I was just –" he started, but Harry didn't want to give him a chance to put his foot in his mouth again.

"And are you saying that you wanted to run off and elope tomorrow or something?" he asked Hermione.

"Of course not, but –" she started.

"Well then we don't have a problem."

Ron and Hermione thought differently. Rather than their annoyance dissipating, and the tension in the room decreasing, all that happened was that they lapsed into an angry silence. Harry, deciding that it was best to leave them to work out their bad mood alone, sank back into his own chair and started to think about the task at hand.

He remembered going into that cave with Dumbledore. At the time he had thought it was just the fact that he was so near a Horcrux that had caused him to have that eerie feeling. Maybe that was only partially the reason though. Perhaps some of what he had felt there had been the magic. Like the former headmaster had said, magic always leaves a trace. Maybe that's what Harry had been feeling, and what the Muggles here were feeling from the Riddle House. It was worth a try. They weren't risking anything taking a look at it.

The suspicious woman was back with their food.

"So, come up with a proper story yet?" she asked them nastily. She was shrewd; there was no doubt about that. "What business do you have here? We don't want no trouble in this village."

"We're not here to cause trouble," Harry told her. "We just have some personal business to do. Please be assured there will be no ill effects to your village. But we are not required to, and will not be divulging details of why we are here."

Harry didn't know why he had made that promise. He knew that he couldn't keep it. Who knew what type of spell or enchantment would be on the Horcrux that was in the Riddle House (for he had now convinced himself it was there).

The woman, whose name they still did not know, looked at Harry in shock. She had a formidable presence, and didn't seem used to being denied having her questions answered. She seemed like she didn't know how to respond to Harry's blatant refusal.

"Thank you for the meal." Harry reached in and pulled out his Muggle money, pulled off a few notes and handed them to her. He gave her a few pounds more than their food and accommodations came to. She stared at the money, still in shock, and then exited without another word.

"Wow. You handled that brilliantly mate," Ron complimented Harry.

"Yes. Surprisingly well," Hermione agreed.

"Never mind that. Are you two over your little quarrel?"

Ron and Hermione nodded.

"Good, because we have things to do this afternoon. I have a feeling there's a Horcrux at that house. We're going to have to be on guard when we go there. I don't want you two distracted. We need to be ready for anything." Harry knew this probably sounded overly dramatic, but given what he had experienced with Dumbledore, and the previous encounters he had with Voldemort vigilance could only be a good thing.

It was a sweltering afternoon when they stepped out of the pub half an hour later. Harry took a moment to adjust his vision to the bright sunlight. Then he headed in the direction of the large and now deteriorating house that stood in the distance. Little Hangleton had even more of an ancient aura than Godric's Hollow had. It was somewhat of a shock to see cars driving down the streets. It would have seemed more fitting for horse-drawn carriages transporting men in top hats and women in bonnets to be passing them.

There was only one road that would lead them to the Riddle House. It was the road that wound it's way past the overgrown graveyard. Harry didn't know or realize this until they were right upon it. Looking to his right, Harry noticed a church, and then his eyes fell on the large yew tree.

Suddenly Harry comprehended exactly where they were. This was where the portkey had transported himself and Cedric. This is where he watched Cedric be murdered, where he had been tied to the gravestone of Voldemort's dead father and forced to help resurrect the Dark Lord. This was where he had almost died himself, where he would have died had his wand and Voldemort's not shared cores.

Harry wanted to get away from this graveyard as fast as he could, but found instead that he was walking into it. There was nothing here but painful memories that he would rather forget. Why he was coming back here he couldn't answer himself, so remained quiet when Ron and Hermione asked.

Flashes of what had happened that night were playing through Harry's mind as though he was watching a movie. The cup transporting him and Cedric here, Wormtail, Cedric dying, being tied to the grave, watching Voldemort being reborn, the appearance of the Death Eaters, the duel, the echoes of Cedric, Bertha Jorkins, Frank Bryce, his mother, his father . . .

Harry once again was feeling that same sense of pointlessness that he had felt in Godric's Hollow. What use was it really to try and fight this war? Everyone was going to die anyway. They always did. Three years ago he had seen a classmate be murdered in cold blood, and then seen four other victims of Voldemort, all murdered for no reason. This hunt would make the Dark Lord more vengeful and murderous. It wasn't really worth the sacrifice.

Harry shook his head, to clear it. What was he thinking? He might not be up to the task of destroying Voldemort, but he wasn't going to sit around and watch as everyone died. He was going to go down fighting, even if it was in vain. The first thing he needed to do was gain some control over his own actions and get the hell out of this graveyard. There was nothing here that they were going to find, and all it was doing was sapping his energy and determination.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned anxiously.

"Let's go," Harry told her and Ron, a fresh wave of determination in his voice. He turned his back to the place he had stood three years ago, and headed back to the road. Ron and Hermione didn't say anything, but again just followed him, although Harry saw that they exchanged another look.

If Harry thought that leaving the graveyard would give him a reprieve from those pitying thoughts, he was wrong. As he, Ron and Hermione walked in silence, those memories started to come back to him more prominently. Cedric lying dead on the ground, Wormtail cutting off his own hand, Voldemort stepping out of the cauldron, Voldemort saying "bow to death Harry."

Nor were those the only thoughts that were running through Harry's head as they neared the Riddle House. They had just started climbing the hill when he heard another voice, making him slow down and almost stop, his blood running cold.

"HARRY, HELP ME PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T LET HIM TAKE ME!"

It took a minute for him to realize that Ginny's voice was coming from his own mind. The dream he had came back in full force as dread settled on him, and he began to shiver, despite the almost stifling heat.

But the heat was there no more. Instead there was a deep, biting chill in the air. Harry hadn't noticed this right away, caught up as he was in his horrible remembrances. He had initially attributed this cold to his internal state. Ron and Hermione were shivering too though.

"W-w-why i-I-I-is it s-so cold?" Hermione asked, her teeth chattering. There was a simple answer to that question of course. There was only one thing that could turn a swelteringly hot day into a freezing cold one in seconds. Dementors.

Harry couldn't see them yet, but knew they must be near. He hissed this to Ron and Hermione who, looking around apprehensively themselves, drew out their wands. The three friends moved in closer, forming a circle. They had their backs to each other and were each looking in a different direction, trying to pinpoint the location of those foul beings. They didn't dare move, for fear of winding up closer to the Dementors.

Then Harry, turning for a moment from his stance facing the house, saw them. They were coming the same way Harry, Ron and Hermione had. There were at least a dozen of them.

"Get back," Harry told the others. They were all facing the Dementors now, and their draining power was starting to have its effect on the three teens. They backed away several paces, getting closer to the house.

"Think of something happy," Harry told his friends. "Remember the patronus . . . " he was trying to focus on something happy himself. Ginny, he thought. Her smiling face came into his vision, and he readied himself to produce his patronus when the Dementors got close enough.

A hundred feet stood between Harry, Ron, Hermione and the hooded creatures. Still backing away, in between Ron and Hermione, Harry raised his wand.

"Expecto Pat –" he started to shout. He never finished the incantation though, because his scar burst into life and he let out a grunt of pain. Voldemort was here, in the Riddle House, and he knew that Harry was just outside. They were facing a battle on two fronts. The very last thing that Harry needed right now, in his weakened state, especially with his two best friends by his side, was a battle with Voldemort.


	17. 17 The Serpent's Scheme

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE SERPENT'S SCHEME

Through the echoing screams he was hearing, and the weakness caused both by the Dementors and the pain in his scar, Harry heard Ron and Hermione bellow "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" in unison. He opened his eyes just enough to see two silver forms charge at the Dementors. Even as they did though he knew the foul creatures were backing off.

"They're leaving?" Hermione said a little breathlessly. "Why?"

Harry knew why. As the screaming in his head started to abate, the pain in his scar was increasing. Voldemort definitely knew that they were there, and was going to act soon. His scar gave a particularly painful throb, and Harry stumbled sideways into Ron.

Hermione and Ron had been so preoccupied with their defensive spells, that they hadn't noticed Harry. He always had a strong reaction when in the presence of Dementors, so they may not have thought anything different. But when Harry knocked into Ron, their attention was focused on him.

"Harry?" Ron asked worriedly, as he too stumbled, then tried to straighten himself, while not letting Harry fall. "What's the matter?"

"We . . . have . . . to . . . go," Harry was trying to tell them they had to get the hell out of there, but was finding it hard to talk, owing to the excruciating pain that was radiating from his scar.

"Go?" Hermione asked, looking at him, worried as well. "The Dementors are gone though." She looked at Ron, as if asking why Harry was still having such a strong reaction.

"Not Dementors," Harry gasped. Any second now Voldemort was going to appear, and he didn't want to think about what would happen then. He was just forming the word Voldemort when a small pop told him it was too late. He was here.

Ron and Hermione turned around, both now supporting Harry, who was still teetering on the brink of consciousness.

"I must say Harry, I'm surprised to see you here," Voldemort said. "After your lucky escape from Privet Drive, I'd rather have thought I'd be the one calling on you again."

Harry was trying to signal to Ron or Hermione that they needed to Disapparate. He didn't think he could in this condition, but one of them could side-along him out of here. The problem was that there didn't seem a way to do it without Voldemort seeing; if he did, he was likely to act in some horrendous way.

"I was rather upset that you didn't stay around for my visit," Voldemort confessed. "I will still have to teach you manners before the end, it appears. Your Aunt Marge's sacrifice was not enough. I thought that would teach you."

So it really was Harry's fault. Voldemort had ordered her murder because he had got away at Privet Drive.

"Well, I daresay we have all the time in the world now. There's no mummy, or old fool Dumbledore to save you this time Harry. And it was lovely of you to bring along the spectators. This lesson starts now."

"Crucio," Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at Harry, who was ready for just this sort of thing. In the chaos that ensued as he, Ron and Hermione scattered, Harry yelled to them,

"Get out of here."

He heard a loud crack and felt a little better. At least they weren't going to get hurt.

As he ran, sure he wouldn't be able to Disapparate given his weakened state; Harry realized Voldemort wasn't shouting spells at him anymore. Turning back, he saw something.

Apparently it had only been Hermione that had left. Ron was still there. He was standing twenty feet from Harry, not moving at all.

"Ron, come on, let's go,' Harry called to him. His friend still didn't move. Something wasn't right here.

Forgetting that the most feared wizard ever was standing mere feet from Harry, he ran over to Ron, hoping with every ounce of his being that he was not going to see what he thought he was. This was not going to be a replay of the graveyard. Harry would not let Ron be head.

Dreading it, but expecting the worst, Harry reached Ron and looked at him.

"NO!" Harry screamed, when Ron didn't respond to his shaking. He had forgotten completely that Voldemort was still there. That is, until he heard that chilling laugh.

"It's foolish to fight me, Harry. You will never win." With that Voldemort disappeared.

"YOU BASTARD!" Harry screamed, quite pointlessly, turning to the Riddle House, where Voldemort had returned. "YOU FU - YOU PIECE OF SH - AAARRGGGGGHHHH! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BRING YOU DOWN, IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"

Out of his mind in pain from his scar, and the loss of his friend, Harry had half a mind to storm right into that house and not leave until one of them was dead. He probably would have done if a sudden sound from behind him hadn't made him turn around.

Ron was moving. He wasn't dead. Absolute anger turned to shocked relief, and Harry, not caring about anything else, threw his arms around his friend saying, "oh thank god."

He pulled away quickly, thinking that this probably wasn't the manliest thing to do, and that Ron was going to tease him mercilessly about it. But Ron said nothing. This was most unlike him. Harry, now feeling concerned again, looked at his friend properly. Something still wasn't right, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

"You OK?" he asked. Ron said nothing. "Hello?" Harry snapped his fingers in front of Ron's face. His friend finally looked at him. He stared almost blankly for a second and then reacted so fast, Harry didn't have time to do anything.

"Crucio!"

Harry was on the ground writhing in pain. He couldn't think about anything else except for the agony that he was in. It seemed to go on forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Ron eventually let up though. He came and stood over Harry's limp form, now sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath.

"I told you it's foolish to fight me, you won't win Harry," Ron said. Suddenly Harry understood. Ron had been put under the Imperius Curse. When the man standing over him raised his wand again, he was ready. This was Voldemort acting through Ron; Harry knew what was coming.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

The two spells were shouted at the same time. As soon as Harry had finished his incantation he rolled away from his spot on the ground. The two spells missed each other, but only just. Ron's wand went flying into the air. Harry used a summoning charm to retrieve it. He scrambled up from the ground, ignoring the protests of his aching body, grabbed Ron and Disapparated. As he did so, he knew for certain that Voldemort had been watching. His scar was burning hotter than ever.

ANOTHER PLAN FOILED! Voldemort fumed, as he pulled out his wand. He stuck it into the lock, and the door popped open. How was it that the boy could dodge so many killing curses? Never before had he had this much trouble killing someone.

"WHO THE HELL ARE - " The big fat one with the bushy mustache never finished his question.

"Silence Muggle. I am Lord Voldemort."

"Voldemort?" There was a look of dawning comprehension on the face of the fat lump. Harry must have talked about the Dark Lord with them. The family were closer than Severus had had advised Voldemort; all the better for him.

"Yes, Muggle, Voldemort. And I have a message for your nephew."

"Then why don't you give it to him?" Vernon Dursley asked, in a voice that clearly indicated he was trying to hide his fear. "We don't have anything more to do with him."

"Oh, but I think it will be more poignant this way," Voldemort replied, raising his wand. Uncle Vernon recoiled.

"Wh – what a-are y-y-you d-doing?" he asked.

"Sending my message. Avada Kedavra."

A blinding flash of green light lit up the tiny living room of the flat Vernon and Petunia Dursley had moved into that very day. Petunia, who had been cleaning the kitchen, and heard none of this, came rushing into the living room when she heard her husband crash to the floor.

She shrieked, seeing his dead body lying there. She rushed over to him and started to shake him, not noticing any one else in the room.

"There's no point, he's dead,' Voldemort laughed, watching her. This was very like the scene in which he had disposed of James and Lily Potter. Well, that stupid girl had not wailed over her husband, as her sister was doing now. But she had sounded almost the same when he had come to take care of her son. The two sisters were really more alike than they probably realized.

All this shrieking was giving the Dark Lord a headache. He wouldn't even have to be here if it weren't for Lily Potter and her son. The thought of the afternoon's events caused Voldemort's anger to rise. And this woman, still pointlessly wailing, had aided Harry Potter in surviving sixteen years longer than he should have done.

"Avada Kedavra," he said lazily. She too slumped to the ground, over her husband's heavy body.

Ah, silence at last . . .

Without so much as second glance at the two bodies Voldemort Disapparated. He still had a meeting with Severus to get to in Little Hangleton. He didn't see the piggy face of Dudley Dursley peering around the corner as he left.

Why Harry Potter was in the village of Little Hangleton at all, wasn't more than a passing thought to the Dark Lord. The idea that the boy might have been here to retrieve the Horcrux stored in the Gaunt house never even entered his mind. He appeared back in the Riddle house, knowing that Snape and Wormtail were waiting for him upstairs. They were standing in the room that overlooked the graveyard; the same one that Snape and Draco had entered two months previous.

"My Lord," they both said, falling to their knees to kiss his robes. Voldemort let them get on with it. It gave him more time to rant about how Harry Potter had been able to thwart him yet again.

"Get up," he said curtly a minute later. He was looking for news of the boy. Perhaps Severus had some this time. Something useful that is. Thus far the information that Severus had provided had yielded little. Voldemort's patience was growing paper-thin with the man. If he didn't provide something good now, it might be time to reconsider Severus's employment. "You say you have something useful Severus? What is it this time?"

Snape pulled a two-week-old edition of the Daily Prophet out of the pocket of his robes and flopped it down on an old and dust-covered table. The headline on this article read: "MORE ALLEGATIONS FROM BOY WHO LIVED: 'YOU-KNOW-WHO AND SNAPE COWARDS'"

"So I've seen, old news," Voldemort replied, glancing down at the paper briefly then waving it away, as though bored. Severus really let the boy get to him. These allegations were the least of their problems at this point. "Surely you haven't taken up my valuable time with a twelve day old news story Severus. The papers are always quoting Harry, there's nothing new there."

"Not the article my lord, the picture," Snape pointed to the one in which Harry was grabbing Ginny's hand.

"R-r-r-really S-severus, I d-don't see how Harry Potter's love l-life –" Wormtail started to say nervously.

"Silence Wormtail," Voldemort said, distracted now by the newspaper. "Who is this girl, Severus?" he asked softly, not taking his scarlet eyes from the picture. The Dark Lord looked at it more closely. There was Harry, his two friends that had accompanied him here today, and another pretty little thing that hadn't. Harry was indeed reaching for her hand. Voldemort's eyes widened as he realized what this meant.

"Ginny Weasley," Snape told the Dark Lord. This was just the reaction he had been hoping his master would have.

Voldemort knew that name well. How could he forget the girl that had almost allowed him to come back two years earlier than he had done? However, Harry Potter, the meddlesome fool that he was, had prevented that. What was it that the imbecilic Lucius had told his master about the girl?

She was the first female Weasley in seven generations, the youngest of seven children. And, most interestingly of all, given current events, she had a huge crush on Harry Potter. Well, it seemed certain that it was more than a crush now.

Draco had told the Dark Lord several months ago about their relationship, but knowing Harry Potter as he did, Voldemort was sure the boy would stay as far away from her, and not have any contact so as to try and keep her safe. And to be honest, he hadn't really though she was that important to the boy. But, here they were, still together after all this time, and all these events. Harry must really care for her.

Voldemort's face broke into a wide grin, his nostrils flaring, bringing out the more snake-like features of his skull-white face. Severus had hit the jackpot with this one, proving once again, why the Dark Lord found him the most useful servant.

"Very well Severus. You shall be duly rewarded." Voldemort now turned his attention to Wormtail. "You are to go to this flat in London." He handed a sheaf of parchment to the trembling man. "There you will find the bodies of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. See that their deaths reach the ears of Harry Potter. Do not fail me this time." His last words were dangerous. "You may both leave."

Snape and Wormtail shuffled out of the room, the former a little stiffly. Perhaps he thought he would be rewarded more directly for this information. Well, Lord Voldemort was going to hold off. Too many times had the intelligence on Harry Potter failed to yield the desired result. No, the Dark Lord was not going to dole out any praise or punishment until this deed was seen to its end.

Voldemort started down at the picture of Harry and Ginny again. If the boy's relationship with this girl was as close the Dark Lord thought it was, this little game was going to be even more enjoyable than luring Harry to the Ministry of Magic after Sirius Black. It warranted proper planning though. This time he was not going to fail.

Harry Potter was going down . . .


	18. 18 Findings & Failings

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: FINDINGS AND FAILINGS

It wasn't easy trying to get Ron back into headquarters. He didn't have his wand anymore, so thankfully couldn't perform another deadly curse, but was still fighting Harry. He was behaving very odd. One second it was like Ron was trying to strangle his best friend, the next he would go limp, and Harry would have to catch him from falling. It seemed as though Ron was trying to fight the Imperius Curse.

"C'mon Ron, you can do it," Harry panted, as they took the last struggled steps into Order headquarters.

"Oh, thank god," Hermione cried when she saw both of them come through the door alive, and seemingly unhurt. She ran over to hug Ron but Harry pushed her away, just as Ron made another attempt at getting his hands around Harry's neck. "What the –"

"He's been Imperiused," Harry explained as he struggled against Ron's renewed attempts to strangle him. Hermione let out a little scream, which drew the attention of a bunch of other people in the house, because it set off the portrait again.

"What's going on?" Lupin shouted as he, Mr. Weasley, Tonks and Moody came hurrying out of the drawing room. "Why did you scream Hermione?"

"Its Ron, Harry just said he . . . "

At that moment Ron wriggled free of Harry's restraining grasp and lunged at him. Harry, not paying as much attention as he should have been, was caught off guard enough for Ron to be able to force him back against the door. He had his hands on Harry's neck now, but wasn't applying any pressure. He was still fighting that curse Harry could see it.

"Fight him," Harry told his friend, removing the hands that were loosely draped around his neck. "You can do it."

Ron stepped back a few paces. His head was starting to twitch from side to side, as though he was trying to shake it, but not quite able to. Several people moved forward, as though to restrain him, but Harry motioned for them not too. He wanted Ron to beat this on his own. Harry knew that he could do it.

The scene stood suspended, mid-action for several minutes while they all watched Ron fight that internal battle with Voldemort. Finally, much as Harry had done several years before; he won, bursting out furiously, "NEVER!"

Breathing hard and shaking madly, Ron collapsed against the wall, not looking at any of them.

"What happened?" Lupin asked finally.

"Voldemort," Harry said simply. Mr. Weasley and Tonks shuddered, Lupin and Moody looked shocked, and there was the sound of feet pounding up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came racing into the entrance. Their faces were white. They had heard the name, and that was enough to make them hurry their steps.

"Remus, what happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked in her frantic voice. Her gaze traveled around the crowd of people standing in the entrance. Her eyes fell on Ron, who had either fallen asleep, or passed out. "Oh my god, not Ron," she cried rushing over to him. "He's not –"

"He's fine," Harry stated. "Just a little exhausted is all."

"Let's go in here –" Lupin gestured to the recently vacated drawing room. "You can tell us what happened. Molly, Ginny, can you two see to Ron?"

No one argued with Lupin, and they broke into two groups. Once in the drawing room Harry explained about the meeting with Voldemort, leaving out their exact location and purpose for being there. He told them about the Dementors, about how he had sensed Voldemort there before the Dark Lord had ever appeared. How Voldemort had appeared and how he had cursed Ron.

All eyes turned to Hermione when Harry got to the part about her Disapparating.

"I thought we were all leaving at the same time," she said in barely more than a whisper. There were tears on her cheeks. "I wouldn't have left otherwise." She seemed a little defensive through her tears, and Harry wondered if Ron questioning her bravery earlier that day intensified her guilt.

"I thought he was dead," Harry stated bitterly, the talk returning to their recent experience. He told them about how he had almost been completely reckless and gone after Voldemort, then about the two Unforgivable Curses that Ron had shot at him. At these last words Mr. Weasley put his head in his hands.

"My son," he said softly. "My own son did something that terrible. His best friend . . . "

"He was under the Imperius curse Arthur. He didn't know what he was doing," Moody said, an unusual compassionate note in his voice.

"He fought from the first though," Harry said, a proud note in his voice. Neither Ron nor Hermione had ever seen Voldemort before today. They had certainly heard about his appearance, and all of the terrible things that he did for a long time, but to see him in all his serpentine glory; just after being faced with Dementors . . . They had done very well. And more importantly, they were both alive, safe, and generally none the worse for wear.

"I've got to go see him." Mr. Weasley stated suddenly. He left the room quickly, and thundered up the stairs.

"Me too." Hermione joined him. Harry was going to accompany her, but Lupin held him back.

"Harry, a word please?" Harry grudgingly agreed. They too left the room, and walked up to the deserted library.

"Exactly where were you three today?" Lupin questioned once he had closed the door.

"In a village," Harry admitted. "We're working on a way of getting rid of Voldemort. That's really all I'm at liberty to say."

"Can you at least tell us what area of the country you were in?" Lupin asked. Harry wondered if this was a roundabout way of getting the answer. He gave Remus a questioning look. "Just general vicinity, so we can get some people there. If he's in that area there's bound to be more Dark activity."

"It is in the North of England," Harry decided to tell him. "But if you don't mind, I want to go check on Ron too." He wasn't going to take part in an interrogation that he couldn't answer questions to. Harry's annoyance and impatience must have carried through in his voice because Lupin spoke again.

"Harry, we're trying to work with you, stay out of your way for the most part. It's a request Dumbledore made of us before he died. We want to make your job easier, not harder."

"Thanks," Harry said. He was halfway to the door already. He heard Lupin sigh as the library door swung shut.

Mr and Mrs Weasley were just leaving the room that Ron and Harry usually shared. When he descended the last few steps, Mrs. Weasley pulled him into one of her usual bear hugs.

"Thank you, Harry dear. For making sure he got back safe." There were tears in her eyes. Letting go of Harry she returned to her husband, who put his arm around her shoulders.

"You can't really think that I would leave him there with Voldemort? I don't want that evil git to get away with any of this. A little thing like trying to kill me isn't going to change that." He was joking, but realized a little too late that it was perhaps too soon for such a remark.

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley sobbed, fresh tears falling down her face. She escaped Harry and Mr Weasley's company and went down the stairs.

"That was tactless of me," Harry berated himself.

"Don't worry about it son," Mr Weasley put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "We're just glad he was able to fight off that Curse." He glanced back at the closed door for a minute, shook his head slowly and in an exhausted sort of way, and then joined his wife.

Ron was lying on his bed, and Ginny was sitting on the edge of it when Harry entered and closed the door. They had been having a whispered conversation.

"How're you feeling?" he asked Ron.

"Fine," Ron would not look at him. "Just peachy. You know, nearly murdered you, but –"

"You didn't. It was Voldemort," Harry stated firmly. The last thing he wanted Ron to do was to blame himself for something he had no control over.

"It was my wand pointing at you. I was the one that shouted those Unforgivables," Ron retorted. "I can't believe this." He covered his face with his hands. "I just can't believe this."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this. He knew exactly where Ron was coming from. It was the same way that he felt about Sirius. Truth be told, he wanted to tell Ron that it would be OK, that nothing bad had happened, and that he should get over it. But Harry knew it would be a waste of breath. He still hadn't got over Sirius's death after all.

"Here's your potion Ron," Hermione said, entering the room. On Mrs Weasley's instructions no doubt, he had been brought a dreamless sleep draught.

"Thanks," he responded. "Listen –" he put the glass down on the bedside cabinet. " – I need to have a word with Harry. Can you two leave us alone for a minute?"

Hermione and Ginny didn't question his request they just left.

"I . . . I'm sorry," Ron said simply.

"Like I said before, it wasn't your fault," Harry told him.

"We shouldn't have questioned you like that. When you said we had to go, we should have just gone. When I think about what might have happened . . ." Ron stopped talking for a minute, thinking about the what ifs. "I mean, not just my actions, but the greater consequences," Ron shivered. "The prophecy . . . "

"Yeah, but someone once told me that you can't dwell on the what ifs or possibilities," Harry replied, remembering Lupin's words to him about Sirius. And then less recently Dumbledore's words, 'It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live'. "Everything worked out for the best, and tomorrow we're going back out there."

Ron shuddered. "So soon?"

"Not to Little Hangleton, but somewhere else. We've got to," Harry told him.

"Yeah. We're just going to have to be extra careful this time. And I promise we'll both listen to you. I have to or Ginny'll Bat Bogey me," he smiled weakly. Harry returned the smile. Then Ron became serious again. "Listen about Ginny . . . I've been a complete idiot about that; the whole taking advantage thing. I know it's not like that. I just was a little disgusted at seeing that, and . . . well you know Hermione wasn't . . . I was a little -"

"No harm done," Harry said, putting up his hand. That explained how Ron knew about that night. The comment about Hermione was more than Harry wanted to know though. "Get some rest. You're going to need it."

Harry waited while Ron swallowed the potion. When he had settled back, and his snores were starting to sound, Harry left the room. Hermione and Ginny were standing right outside the door. The former entered it, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"He's going to be fine," Harry told Ginny, hugging her close to him to try and soothe that worried look on her face.

"Was he really that mad at you for what we did?" she asked, trying to joke, but not getting the feeling across, because her voice was heavy with unshed tears.

"Maybe," Harry said hollowly, as he stroked Ginny's hair. He hadn't really digested the meaning of her question.

The Weasleys, who were at number twelve, Grimmauld Place for an order meeting, decided to stay the night to keep an eye on Ron. Ginny had come with them because it wasn't safe for her to be alone at The Burrow.

Everyone was so shocked at what had transpired between Harry, Ron and Voldemort that they all seemed to be walking around in a daze. Neither Mr nor Mrs Weasley said a word when they went to check on Ron, and found Hermione asleep in the bed next to him. Nor did they say anything when Ginny went up to bed, dragging Harry with her. It seemed another of those desperate sorts of nights, when the evil going on in the world is threatening to suffocate the individual, and the only reprieve is to stay as close as possible to those you love.

Consumed in making sure that Ron was OK, Harry hadn't had a chance to process how he felt about this whole scenario. It wasn't until late that night, when Ginny was drifting off to sleep beside him that he got chills. He almost hadn't survived to be here beside her. He had narrowly escaped death yet again. His best friend would have murdered him!

Harry suddenly felt quite sick.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, sleepily.

"Just thinking about today," Harry confessed. "I never thought that would happen. I almost had to hex him to keep him from murdering me." It was at this moment that the realization of how narrowly he had escaped death again came to Harry.

"I thought, when we heard Voldemort's name, that it was something to do with you . . . " Ginny trailed off. "I was so scared I could barely walk. I was so relieved when we came in and saw that you and Ron were both fine. It's like when the Dementors leave and you remember all the good things . . . " she moved a little closer to Harry.

"We're leaving again tomorrow," he told her suddenly.

"I know. But it's not morning yet."

Molly fretted over the breakfast she had got up at the crack of dawn to prepare. She had been dismayed the previous evening to learn that Harry, Ron and Hermione were going to be setting off so soon. They should delay their leaving, she thought. Ron being placed under the Imperius Curse was reason enough. She had even agreed to stay a few extra days, if the trio changed their plans. When she voiced these suggestions over breakfast it wasn't Harry, Ron or Hermione that said anything, but Ginny.

Sitting right beside Molly, Ginny put her hand over top of her mother's, and made sure she was looking before she spoke. "Mum, they can't. They've got things to do, to try and end this war," she said this with a determined air. Molly saw a flicker of that same haunted look in her daughter's eyes as the day she had found Ginny crying in the yard.

Harry was like a son to her. Molly hated to think about all of the horrible things that he had gone through in his life. She was glad that Ginny was able to bring him some happiness. Harry and Ginny reminded Molly of herself and Arthur. They too had started dating during a war, and would need to be with each other to shut out all of the horrible things that were happening. Of course, Molly and Arthur were not direct targets of You-Know-Who, which made it a little easier for them than it was for Harry and Ginny. It was perhaps this level of understanding that allowed Molly to not intervene in their relationship. She had to admit (even though she didn't want to think about it at all) that what they were doing was normal. She just hoped they were being careful.

Ron seemed almost back to himself in the morning. There were a few slight changes. He was a little more subdued, ate less than normal, and didn't scowl once when he found out that Harry and Ginny had stayed together the night before. The most perceptible change in him was that he now had a very similar attitude as Harry did about getting this task done.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had a brief discussion after breakfast. There was no argument this time. Both Harry and Ron were of a like mind in needing to get this task over with. Hermione deferred to their judgment. So they, in very short order, agreed that their next stop was going to be the Orphanage.

"We should be prepared this time though, if they ask us why we're there," Hermione stated. "I was thinking that we could say we're looking for a suitable home for a baby," she glanced nervously at Ron here. Was this going to be a replay of yesterday's marriage argument?

"Whose though?" he asked. From the look on his face, Harry knew that Ron was probably coming to the same conclusion as he was.

"Would it be believable if we said it was someone else's?" Hermione asked with raised eyebrows, she meant hers it was obvious. "I don't like it any more than you do, but it's the most logical explanation."

They once again found themselves in the rubbish filled square. It was particularly foul smelling in the August heat. Hermione had made the well-thought out point that since they were not leaving the city it would be hard to find a place to Apparate without being seen. So they were going to take the underground.

Hermione was their guide for the day. She kept her nose turned up to the stop schedule and told them where to get off. Reaching street level, they found they were in the same location the younger Dumbledore had walked down. It was no longer old-fashioned. There were no horses and carriages here, but many cars lining the street. Many of the buildings appeared to have been abandoned, and were looking much shabbier for it.

The square building that held the orphanage had seen its fair share of hard times as well. The high railings were rusted, weeds were growing through the stairs, which were cracked and chipped in places, and the door they approached to knock, was in desperate need of paint.

"Can I help you?' A middle-aged woman asked them curiously as she swung the door open.

"Um . . . yes. This is an orphanage right?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes."

"Well we . . . I . . . " Hermione had turned a bright shade of red. Apparently this little plan of hers wasn't going to be as easy as she thought it would.

"Are you going to have a child?" the woman asked, looking Hermione up and down. Grateful the woman had said it, Hermione nodded her head vigorously, a triumphant smile on her face. The woman probably thought she was smiling because the reason for her visit was out. Ron and Harry, on the other hand, knew she was smiling because the woman bought her story.

"I just . . . I can't keep it, and was hoping to . . . er . . . find somewhere nice to take him or her. You know, somewhere that will look after them properly, until they can get a proper mother and father." Despite her initial stumble, the rest of Hermione's explanation was very well done, Harry thought.

"Right, dear, come in." The woman opened the door a little wider so Hermione could enter. Harry and Ron were quick to follow, but the somewhat compassionate manner of the woman faltered when she saw them. "Who are they?" she asked, eyeing each suspiciously. "Is it one of them that got you into trouble?' her voice was suddenly stern.

"Er . . . um . . . no," Hermione said finally, blushing again. Harry was never good at feelings, but it was quite obvious what this woman was thinking, and what had caused Hermione to blush. If she admitted that one of them was the father of her fictitious baby they were likely to get a telling off. If she said that the two guys she had with her weren't the so-called father, the woman might begin to wonder if Hermione wasn't a bit too 'giving'. "They're just friends of mine, here for moral support . . .you know."

"Hmmmm . . . " The woman, whose name was Sandra according to her nametag, let them into an office. It was the same office that had once belonged to Mrs Cole. There was a picture hanging on the wall opposite of that very woman, with a date of death some five years previous. She certainly had lived to a ripe old age.

"So . . . how far along are you exactly?" Sandra asked as she took her seat.

Hermione came up with a wealth of details as only she could. Soon the woman was quite interested in her, and seemed keen to take on the nonexistent child. As the two talked, Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks. They were growing impatient with chat and wanted to start looking around.

"I suppose a tour's in order," Sandra said finally, standing up. Harry was so impressed with the way Hermione was handling this woman that he could have kissed her. It was pure genius this plan of hers. If they didn't find anything today and needed to come back it wouldn't seem odd at all. Who would question an expectant mother wanting to have second looks and where their child was going to live.

The woman led them through the whole of the first floor, which seemed to be in about the same condition the second floor had been in when they had visited it in the pensieve. The few children too young for school were playing with beat up toys in a sad looking common room.

They ascended to the second floor. Things up here were much darker.

"We try not to keep too many kids up here these days. The building's getting on in years, and we have had to close a few of these rooms for repairs," Sandra explained.

They had stopped walking at the top of the stairs. Over to the left was the very door the young Tom Riddle had lived in when he had been at this orphanage. They needed to get into that room, preferably without too much hassle from this woman. Harry caught Hermione's eye, prompting her to get the woman to go away.

"Everything seems . . . er . . . really nice here. Would you mind if we just had a small look around ourselves?"

Sandra didn't seem to think much of this at all. Her lips pursed, and she crossed her arms, looking at the three of them suspiciously. "Why would you want to do that?" she asked.

"You know, get a better feel for the place," Hermione stated. "Maybe have a talk with some of the kids here. See how they're getting on."

Sandra was still looking very doubtful. "You're not trying to find something wrong with this place are you? We do the best we can with the modest stipend we are given to operate. You won't find –" she was speaking rapidly and would have gone on in his matter for awhile, had Hermione not put up her hand.

"We're not from the government. We'd just like to have a look around. Is there something here that you wouldn't like us to see?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at the woman, looking skeptical herself now.

"No, no, of course not. But it's not standard for us to let visitors walk around unaccompanied. Could be dangerous, you know . . . like I said, things up here are badly in need of repair."

"OK, I see your point," Hermione relented. Harry had just conveyed to her for them to go along. Once Ron Hermione, and Sandra had all passed in front of him, he made like he was going downstairs, then threw the invisibility cloak over himself, and quietly snuck back up to the door. He could just hear Sandra saying, "there used to be a room there, but it's been closed and covered over for years now. Since before I got here in fact."

She was pointing to the very door Harry was standing outside. How could that be possible? The door was right there and quite visible. Then Harry realized Voldemort had probably put an Anti-Muggle charm on the door so they couldn't see it. This would be the same sort of thing that kept the Leaky Cauldron out of the eyes of Muggles.

He tried the door; it wouldn't open. Carefully pulling out his wand he pointed it at the lock and muttered, "Alohomora." The tiny area around the keyhole was lit for a second by Harry's spell, but the door remained firmly shut. Harry should have known that it wouldn't be that simple. He leaned back against the door to think about what he was going to try next.

Ron and Hermione had managed to give the matron the slip and were back up at the door.

"Harry?" Ron called softly. Removing the cloak, Harry once again became visible to his friends. "Have you just been waiting for us to come back up here?" Ron asked, half-joking.

"No, I was trying to figure out how to get through this door. Alohomora doesn't work."

"That doesn't really surprise me," Hermione admitted. "Do you really think that he would have used so simple a spell to lock this room if there's something in there?"

"I agree, but to be honest he's so full of himself about his superiority that he might have done something simple. He thinks that no one else knows about the Horcruxes after all.

Still leaning against the door, Harry started taping his foot on it, while Hermione wracked her brain for something they could try. All of a sudden, Harry felt the door give an almighty lurch and he fell backwards into the room.

"Harry?" There was a pounding noise on the door, and Hermione's frantic voice could be heard calling. "Are you in there?"

"Yeah," Harry called, getting back to his feet and rubbing his head, where a huge lump was starting to appear. He tried the door from this end, and it opened easily.

"How'd you do that?" Ron asked, when his friend appeared on the other side of the door. "Get through like that?"

"I have no idea. It's like the door just gave out or something."

"I suppose only one part of the door was enchanted," Hermione said knowingly.

Harry backed away from the door so that Ron and Hermione could enter. Then he turned to stare at the small room than had once belonged to the boy that became Lord Voldemort.

It was completely empty. The sparse furnishings that were in the room the day Dumbledore had come, were here no more. The bare wood floor was caked with dirt and grime, as were the walls. Just being here was making the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.

But was it just being here? Maybe this was the sensation that Dumbledore had been talking about when he said magic leaves detectable traces.

"I think there's something here," Harry told the others. "I dunno if it's a Horcrux or not. But if my feelings are right, some kind of magic was done here."

"OK, let's get started," Ron replied. "What are we looking for exactly?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "It's just a feeling I have. Dumbledore was able to detect the magic in the cave." Harry explained to the others again how the headmaster had found that boat. When he finished he looked at Hermione. She was his best hope in this case. If any of the three of them were going to find a hidden object in this room, it was going to be her. He hoped that she would make one of those 'how do you not know this' type of remarks like "oh that's just a simple revealer spell", whip out her wand, and reveal the hidden object. But she didn't.

"Hmmmm . . . I've read about ways of detecting magic. Some spells are really complex, I don't know if I'd be able to do it."

"Give it a go," Ron encouraged her.

Looking nervous and doubtful, she raised her wand. She didn't say anything, but looked like she was concentrating very hard. Hermione was obviously using a nonverbal spell. After a minute she started spinning around, making swishing motions with her wand. She stopped spinning and stood there. Nothing happened.

"I guess we have to think of something else," Harry said. "How about we –"

But at that second there was a loud CRACK and then a gold cup fell to the floor at their feet.

"That's not it, is it?" Hermione asked, looking at the other two in shock. "It wasn't seriously that simple?"

It wasn't. As she was speaking Harry had bent down to examine the cup. It was not Hufflepuff's cup. The small object was giving off a faint blue light. Could R.A.B. have found this one too?

"Don't tell me someone took this one too?" Ron groaned.

"No, it's a portkey," Hermione stated. These words had caused Harry to remove his hand, which had been an inch away from the cup.

Harry stood up again. He had a very bad feeling about that cup. It would surely lead them to a Horcrux, if not, why would it be here? But the problem was the unknown that waited on the other end.

"What are we waiting for?" Ron asked, bending down to pick up the cup himself. Harry knocked his hand out of the way. "What?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

"Ron, it's a portkey," Hermione said with that same air of explaining something very obvious to someone extremely thick.

"Yeah, I thought we'd decided that already."

"Remember what happened the last time Harry used a portkey connected with Voldemort?"

"N – Oh," Ron looked horrified at his forgetfulness. This feeling was perhaps exacerbated by his experiences the day before. "But you don't really think You-Know-Who would have created this to transport us right to him?"

Harry sighed, he really hoped not. "I guess we'll never know unless we do it." He looked from Ron to Hermione. "Whenever you two are ready." He had his finger suspended an inch above the cup.

Ron and Hermione, both looking apprehensive, imitated Harry.

"One . . . Two . . . Three." They touched the cup and felt a tugging behind their navels, confirming that they were indeed using a portkey. All three kept their wands clutched tightly in their hands as they flew.

Harry was once again surprised at the change in scenery. They were staring at a large, and rather steep hill, on top of which stood a very old looking tower. It was going to take a while to climb to that, if indeed that was what they needed to do. He looked at Ron and Hermione. The former was looking as stunned as Harry felt. Hermione was gazing at the large mass in front of them. She seemed as surprised as Harry and Ron, but quite unexpectedly burst out laughing.

"This is a joke," she choked through her laughter.

"What's with you?" Ron asked, looking at her in alarm. He seemed to think she had done her nut.

"Do you not know where we are?" she questioned, setting off for the huge hill, still shaking her head in hilarious disbelief. "Glastonbury Tor," she added. Harry and Ron still didn't see what was so funny here. "Oh honestly," she huffed. "The legend of King Arthur, ring any bells?"

"Vaguely," Harry admitted, while Ron nodded his head.

"Well, then you should know that this is thought to be the legendary Avalon, the place where Arthur and Guinevere are buried. The Holy Grail, which many think is a cup with healing powers, is rumored to be here. Do you think Voldemort would –"

"Be arrogant enough to store the cup here? Absolutely," Harry answered her question. It would be just the type of thing he would do. If Voldemort knew (and Harry didn't doubt that he did) that the rumored Holy Grail was supposed to have magical powers like Hufflepuff's cup, he would have been more likely to bring it here.

Their breathing became labored as they climbed, cutting of Hermione's narrative about how Glastonbury Tor was related to the King Arthur legend. When she stopped talking to preserve her breath, Ron let out a sigh of relief.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, they discovered they were not alone. There were probably two-dozen people milling around the ruins. Harry, Ron and Hermione returned their smiles and started to look around. Where could Voldemort have hidden a Horcrux here?

"I'd wager if its here, its probably in the tower itself," Hermione said. It was as good a place to start as any. They had barely entered the shade of that building when Harry felt the same prickling feeling as he had felt before.

"There's something here," Harry told them. "If I'm right, there is some kind of spell in place."

"How are we going to figure out what it is?" Hermione questioned in a voice quiet enough so the Muggles in the tower wouldn't hear.

"Try whatever it was you had done before," Ron suggested. "That spell you had done to reveal that portkey."

Hermione discretely pulled out her wand. She waited for the few other people in the area to leave, and then swished her wand in the same manner as she had done in the orphanage. Something flickered in front of their eyes for a second and then disappeared. She tried again, with the same effect.

"I think maybe we should all try it," she whispered as a few more people entered the tower.

"Love to, if we knew what you did," Ron hissed at her.

"It's simple really. All I did was point my want around like this –" she demonstrated her wand movement again, " – and use the Aparecium Spell, nonverbally."

Ron and Harry looked at Hermione quizzically. That seemed bizarre, but it had worked before.

"That's really all I did before," she said.

Figuring they had nothing to lose but time, Harry and Ron complied with Hermione's instructions. They swished and thought "aparecium." There was another flicker . . . a flicker . . . a flicker. After a few more seconds delay the cup appeared right in front of them just as a dozen people entered the archway under the ancient tower.

The Muggles stood transfixed as the cup clattered to the ground.   "What was that?" a frightened middle-aged woman asked in a trembling voice. "Where did that come from, and how was it floating there like that?

The people that had just entered the tower stared at Harry, Ron and Hermione as though they were some kind of horrible apparition. Then the woman that had spoken screamed and ran for the sunlit hill. An invisible force stopped her. Her inability to exit caused the others to react in terrified and frantic ways. Some advanced on the three teens, demanding to know what they had done. The others tried in vain to exit the tower the way they came in, or on the other side.

No one noticed the black vapor that had started to seep up the sides of the archway until the first person fell over.

"Oh My God," Hermione said. "It's a poison."

Harry stood there for a minute, unsure of how to react. He was in shock, but knew he shouldn't be. Then he sprang into action.

"Right, Bubble-Head Charms now," he shouted to Ron and Hermione. "Statute of Secrecy be damned."

They each cast the charm on themselves and then ran around, placing it on the eleven other people in the archway. There was one person they were not able to get to in time, and she fell over, much as the first person had done.

Once all of the standing people had been charmed Harry bent down and looked at the two people that had fallen over. They were dead. His stomach plummeted.

"What's going on here?" someone asked, looking like their eyes were going to pop out of their heads. "What are you, and what are you doing to us?"

Hermione, taking Harry's cue about not keeping things secret, explained that they were two wizards and a witch and were here looking for something, but apparently this gas had been triggered by what they were looking for.

If she thought this would make the people feel better, she was wrong. At this last statement people started to run to either end of the archway, trying to get out. But it was no use. That same invisible barrier (one of Voldemort's favorites it seemed) was preventing anyone from getting in or out.

"Calm down. Everything's fine for now. We're working on a way of getting everyone out of here," Harry bellowed through the dome surrounding his head. It was the first time he had spoken to the people. He didn't say anything different than Ron or Hermione had been saying for the past five minutes, but when he spoke everyone shut up. "Thank you."

"So how do we get out of here?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione.

"I don't know, but I think we've got to rule out all of the standard spells. The barrier isn't exactly solid so I don't know if a spell like Reducto would work. But we've got to try something. And we have got to find a way to get rid of this stuff," she added, waving her hand through the black vapor. It was perfectly innocuous to the skin, but was dangerous if ingested.

Hermione conjured a bottle out of thin air and tried to collect the vapor. It didn't work. She told them she hadn't thought that it would, but it was worth a try. She also tried to siphon the vapor out of the air, with no effect whatsoever. Blowing the vapor out of the sealed archway did nothing either. After several attempts at vanishing the black smoky substance that was still hanging around, the trio decided that they would get back to that later, and turned their attention back to getting out of this archway.

Nothing they tried worked. Reducto, reducio, evanesco, each attempt was as useless as all the others.

In the furor over trying to protect all of the Muggles (who were watching with nervous interest at this point) and getting out of this barricaded tower, Hufflepuff's cup lay forgotten. Feeling a little frustrated, and out to try anything, even the most ludicrous, Ron reached for the cup, still lying where it had been abandoned.

"Here, let's try chucking this thing through that barrier, maybe it'll work." Ron's hand closed around the handle of the cup and a second later he had let go again, yelping in pain. Harry and Hermione rushed forward, and found that Ron's hand had blistered. He had been burned.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, inspecting Ron's hand. "What did you do?"

"I dunno," Ron confessed. "You try." Hermione did, with the same result. She jumped back, nursing her own burned hand.

"Great, how are we supposed to grab the damned thing then?" Ron asked, frustrated. Neither Harry nor Hermione had an answer for this question. It was yet something else they were going to have to think about. It seemed less and less likely that they were going to be getting out of this situation soon, and it would start getting dark in a very short amount of time. Harry, for one, didn't want to be trapped here overnight.

Hermione was usually the one that could get them out of these types of situations. It wasn't her that came up with the suggestion this time, it was Ron.

"Hey, I've had a thought," he piped up suddenly. "If You-Know-Who has this whole King Arthur thing going on, d'you think that maybe he enchanted that cup so that only the worthy person would be able to take it? You know that whole Excalibur thing?" he looked very doubtful of his own suggestion.

"I don't know . . . that seems a little over the top," Hermione commented. "But I guess we can't really rule anything out," she stopped for a minute and then both she and Ron turned to look at Harry. "I guess if it's going to be any of us, it would be you. We're obviously not it," she held up her burned hand as proof.

Hoping that Ron and Hermione were right, Harry bent down to pick up that cup. It was warm, but not scalding hot. Remembering Ron's suggestion of trying to use it to get through that force, Harry tried it, but to no avail.

"Damn," Ron muttered. They were out of ideas again. This was getting old, very quickly, and the other people trapped with them were starting to get even more restless.

"Wait . . . the portkey," Hermione said. "We could give it a try. It would at least get us out of here."

It was a good idea, but they had left it at the bottom of the hill, or so Harry thought. He was wrong. Hermione had put it in her bag. She pulled open the flap and there was the cup, glowing blue again.

"We can take this back to the orphanage, then Apparate back here. Maybe one of us can find McGonagall, or one of the other Order members. They could help us out with this."

Would the portkey even work from in here? It seemed unlikely, given what Voldemort was like. But they had no better ideas at this point so it was worth a try. They each touched a section of the cup and felt the tugging again, telling them they were being transported back. For a fleeting second before he touched the cup, Harry had a feeling that one of them should have stayed behind; but this was eclipsed by his own relief at getting out of that tower.

Not wanting to leave those poor innocent Muggles alone around anything Voldemort had created, Harry, Ron and Hermione took just a second to get their bearings, and then they Apparated back to the top of Glastonbury Tor, at least this time they didn't have to walk up that huge hill.

As soon as they reappeared, Harry knew that something was very wrong. They ran to the archway expecting to be stopped by that invisible barrier, but ran right into it. The black vapor was gone too, but the tower was far from empty. All of the Muggles were still there.

"Oh My God," Hermione cried as she ran into the tower, Harry and Ron on her heels. They ran around and checked each person, but Harry knew from the moment they got back that it was too late. They were all dead.


	19. 19 Succour & Sneak

CHAPTER NINETEEN: SUCCOUR AND SNEAK

At the same time that Harry, Ron and Hermione were struggling to get out of Glastonbury Tor, Lord Voldemort was once again at the Riddle House. He had to admit that the place had a certain charm. Or maybe it wasn't charm at all, but fond memories. It had been here after all that he had done away with the idiotic Muggle that was too cowardly to stay with his wife. But he was a Muggle, so it was no waste for the great Lord Voldemort to dispose of him. Then of course there had been the tricky task of implanting that memory of murdering the Riddles into Morfin Gaunt, the imbecilic brother of the blood traitor.

He really was becoming sentimental after all these years. Lord Voldemort was reliving some of his grander achievements. It had been a near spotless list of accomplishments. The one huge blemish, of course, had been Harry Potter. But no matter, the boy would be done away with in due course. The time was drawing near for the Dark Lord's plans to come into action. This time he would not fail. Dumbledore had been a thorn in one side that had finally been removed, the boy, by way of wearing his heart on his sleeve, would be the thorn in the other side that he was finally going to pluck out.

But he mustn't get ahead of himself. Things were going to be done properly this time. The death of Marjorie, Vernon and Petunia Dursley meant that Harry Potter had no expendable relatives left. Every one else that he was close to was too well guarded for the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord himself to get to easily. The girl, this Ginevra Weasley, would surely be the most closely guarded of all. That was why this little game was going to be so much fun.

The moon was just starting to rise when Voldemort saw the blond head of Draco Malfoy moving up the hill towards the house. At least he was on time tonight.

Too much time elapsed between Draco's appearance on the grounds, and his entrance into the house for the Dark Lord's liking. He had big plans for Draco though, so he was willing to overlook this one last time.

"Good evening Draco," Voldemort said, appearing suddenly behind the teen, who jumped.

"G – Good evening master," Draco replied bending to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. Proper respect, maybe he really would be useful after all.

Voldemort was far too anxious to get this plan underway. He wanted to ascertain as much information as possible about Harry Potter's relationship with that pretty redhead. Therefore, he cut right to the chase.

"You have yet to provide me with useful information on Harry Potter as I requested in June."

Draco looked up at his master for the first time since entering the house. It was clear that he wanted to say something, but seemed quite frightened of the man standing before him. He opened and closed his mouth for a minute, as though trying to form the words, and then let his head fall, and shook it in agreement with Voldemort's assertion.

"Very bad service Draco, I must admit. You failed to get rid of Dumbledore, and now you have failed this task as well. What shall I do with you?"

Voldemort allowed the silence to stretch on indefinitely. He was rather enjoying the kaleidoscope of emotions that were playing across the boys face. Fear was always the most exhilarating though, and there was an overabundance of that in the boy.

"Calm yourself, Draco. I will be merciful one last time. I have a task for you to perform. Are you a match for it?"

Draco, once again feeling relief flood through him at avoiding death, felt quite ready to agree to nearly anything the Dark Lord would ask of him. He rather hoped it had something to do with Snape or Potter. The comments of the former regarding Dumbledore's death, and his mother's distrust of her own son, had been the last straw for Draco. He would quite willingly take part in destroying Snape. The latter, of course . . . well he could spend hours on that topic.

"I am pleased that you are not shirking your debt. However, I need not tell you that should you fail in this plan, your life will be at it's end. Are we understood?" Voldemort asked.

Draco nodded, showing that he understood. He was standing at his full height now. It was taking all of his concentration not to start trembling again.

"Good. You are to perform your actions covertly. You are to alert no one. If I find that you have made someone aware of this plan, I shall have to expedite the end of your life. Is that quite clear?" Voldemort said all of this as he stared out of the window. He spoke as if he was discussing the weather.

"Yes master," Draco replied.

"Excellent. Now pay close attention. This is what you are to do."

Ginny had listened to Harry for once, and waited for him to contact her. It was driving her mad. Never one to sit around and wait for things to happen, she had half a mind to grab a broomstick and take off looking for him, much as she had done the day after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Ginny grudgingly admitted that, aggravating as it was, Harry had her best interests at heart. And, given everything else that he was going through these days, she didn't want to add to his worries.

Trying to keep her mind off what her brother, good friend, and boyfriend might be getting up to out there Ginny spent much time helping her mother around the house. She didn't have anything else to do after all.

It was around dinnertime when she started to get a really bad feeling. It came to her very suddenly, and she couldn't explain it. Molly and Arthur noticed it and commented, thinking that she was coming down with something. Ginny disagreed, yet she didn't argue when they suggested that she have an early night.

Escaping to her room, Ginny lay on her bed, staring at the paperback sized mirror. All that was visible in it was her pale face. She kept her hand on it, but closed her eyes after a while. That bad feeling was increasing, and it was driving her mad. Where was it coming from? And why had it come on so suddenly?

She had just started to fall into a light slumber when the mirror heated up in her hand and Ginny jerked awake. It could only be one person.

Ginny noticed that moonlight was streaming into her window as she tried to focus her sleepy eyes on Harry. She was going to make some chiding comment about the late hour, but the words died before they even formed.

Ginny had seen Harry go through a lot of painful things, Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, Sirius, Dumbledore, his Aunt Marge, just to name a few. Never had she seen such a haunted look on his face though. He was staring into his mirror, but looking almost as though he couldn't really see her. He looked tired and wan.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Ginny asked at once, dreading the answer. Seeing Ron slumped in Grimmauld Place the day before came back to her vividly. Had something happened to Ron or Hermione?

"Voldemort," Harry said in a flat voice. It seemed like he had shut down. Whatever it was that had happened must have been so horrible, that Harry couldn't bear to think about it. Ginny wanted to know what it was, she wanted to help him. She didn't know how she could though. Words were not going to be enough that was quite obvious.

"Was it something with Ron or Hermione?" Ginny asked, trying not to show how worried she actually was about all of them. Harry shook his head.

"No . . . It was –" he stopped abruptly, and shuddered. Then quite suddenly his face disappeared from the mirror. It was such a sudden change that Ginny sat there for a full minute before she even realized that he had gone. What was it that had happened that was making Harry look that way? She needed to know.

Forgetting all about her promise to Harry, Ginny leapt of her bed, dashed out of her room, down the stairs, through the kitchen, where her parents were chatting quietly over a cup of tea, despite the late hour, and out into the yard. She hadn't made it more than three-dozen frantic steps towards the broom shed when the sound of someone Apparating made her turn around.

Harry was standing mere feet away. Ginny ran and threw her arms around him. She hadn't expected to feel him trembling. When she did, she pulled him a little closer. Yes, whatever he had been through must have been completely awful. Curious though she was to know what would have caused Harry to act in such a way, Ginny would not ask him. If he wanted to tell her, she would listen, but she was not going to pressure him into it.

"It's OK,' she told Harry as she felt him embrace her too. "Everything's OK now."

"No, it isn't. That's the problem," Harry replied in that same quiet voice. "It's far from OK. We –" he stopped, let go of Ginny, and looked around.

Ginny felt it too. She turned her head this way and that, but there was nothing there. Yet it seemed like they were being watched. How could they be? There were wards all around The Burrow to prevent people entering by stealth. Even if someone were using an invisibility cloak or Disillusionment Charm, they would know long before that person was able to get near the house.

"I shouldn't have come," Harry said, backing away a few more steps. He was going to leave as suddenly as he had arrived. Ginny wouldn't stand for it. She didn't care if he didn't say another word that night, but she was not going to let him leave her sight until the morning.

"Yes you should have," she stated. "C'mon, you're staying here tonight." She grabbed his hand and led him into the house.

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley's stunned voice was the first to sound when the two teens came back into the house. "This is a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here?" She too noticed the pained expression on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked, some of that franticness making an appearance.

"Mum. I'd really rather –" Ginny started, but was cut off by Molly's scurrying over to where they stood.

"What happened? Is it Hermione, or Ron? Are they hurt? Are they – they dead?'

"No, mum listen I'd –" Ginny started to say again, but her mother, always one to shoot first and ask questions later, was bustling frantically about the kitchen, wringing her hands and muttering to herself. Then, seeming to finally realize that she hadn't got an answer as to what was actually wrong, she hurried over to Harry, put her hands on each of his arms and started questioning him rapidly. Ginny tried unsuccessfully to intervene. Finally it was Mr. Weasley, after a pleading look from his daughter that pulled his wife away from Harry. He convinced her to come to bed with him.

"Here, come and sit down," Ginny said quietly to Harry, steering him into one of the chairs around the scrubbed wooden table. She watched as he took his glasses off, and then put his head in his hands. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair, hoping that it would comfort him as much as it did her. "Did you want to talk about it?' she asked gently. Harry shook his head.

"OK, I'll just make some tea." It was what her mother always did when someone needed comfort, and surprisingly it worked. Harry said nothing as Ginny walked away and got the hot liquid. She did notice that he wasn't watching her though, like he had when she had been doing this exact thing the night before the wedding.

A minute later she was pulling a chair closer and setting down two cups of tea on the table. Harry hadn't moved.

"Here, drink this, it'll help," Ginny stated, pushing the cup a little closer to Harry. He made to do so, but his hand was trembling a little and he knocked it over, spilling the contents. "OK, maybe that wasn't such a good idea then," Ginny said, a small smile on her face. She hoped that this would lighten the mood at least a little, which it didn't. Harry was still not looking at her. She pulled out her wand and cleaned up the spill.

"Let's just go to bed then," Ginny suggested. She didn't really know what to do, or why Harry was here, except that he wanted to be with her. She stood up, taking Harry's hand in hers and started to pull him to his feet. He resisted though, instead pulling her down into his lap.

"Voldemort murdered my aunt and uncle," he told her. He said this in that same emotionless voice as he had used when first contacting her through the mirror. This time however she could detect a tiny trace of the overpowering sorrow that he was trying to hide.

"Oh my god, Harry I'm so sorry," Ginny whispered as she threw her arms around him. So much death surrounded Harry. He had now lost every family member he had left, plus a friend, and his godfather. It was no wonder that Harry was looking as he did. "When did you find out?' she asked.

"Tonight, but he did it yesterday, after we Disapparated. Dudley was at headquarters when we got back. The Order went to check on them this morning, and found my aunt and uncle dead and Dudley cowering somewhere in their flat. He said that Wormtail was there too sometime last night. He was muttering something about how Voldemort had ordered him there to make sure I got the message. They were dead because of me." Harry said all this in that same flat tone.

"That foul git," Ginny burst out savagely. How dare Voldemort do this to Harry! Why did the evil man need to destroy everyone around Harry in such a flippant way? She didn't have an answer to this at all. All Ginny could do was cuddle a little closer to Harry. She wondered if this had redoubled his fears about their relationship. Was he perhaps there to tell her that he had again changed his mind and thought they needed to stay away from each other? Ginny was not going to let him do it again. Not this time.

Harry actually smiled weakly at her outburst, and squeezed her back when she clung to him.

"Yeah, Ginny listen . . . " Here it was, he was going to do it again, say they had to stay away from each other. Ginny prepared herself for a battle. "I need to tell you something. A few things actually . . . stuff that I didn't want to tell you before. But now . . . I need you to know," Harry said quietly. He was looking at her, an intense expression on his face, "about why it has to be me and not someone else."

Harry pulled out his wand and said "accio bag." The rucksack he had dropped by the door upon entering the Burrow flew over to the table and Harry caught it. He rummaged around in it for a minute, and then pulled out a small golden cup with two beautifully crafted handles. As he placed it on the table the light caught the engraving. Ginny leaned closer to it and saw that it was of a badger.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, backing away a little and turning to look at Harry. Something about that cup, and why Harry had it, and pulled it out just now was causing the hairs on the back of Ginny's neck to rise. This couldn't be here for any good reason.

"It's a Horcrux created by Voldemort," Harry told her.

"A what?"

"It's one of the reasons for my lessons with Dumbledore this last year. It's also the reason Voldemort didn't die the first time he tried to kill me. It contains a piece of his soul. He created six of these, or so we believe."

"W- what?' Ginny asked, flabbergasted.

"That's what we've been looking for. We've found this one, and one was at Order headquarters." Harry told he about how they found the locket.

"So, you've found two. What about the other four?" Ginny asked, backing a little farther away from the cup that was sitting innocuously on the table. It seemed even creepier than it had done before she knew what was in it.

"No, actually we have two left. Dumbledore found and destroyed one before the start of last year, that's what caused that black and withered hand." Both Harry and Ginny shuddered at the recollection. "Then I destroyed the other one in second year."

"Second year?" Ginny only had to think for a second before she thought she knew what it was. She gasped. "The diary?" Harry nodded. Ginny shrank even further away from that cup at the memory of what had happened to her in her first year. It wasn't something that she thought about if she could help it.

"That's what we were getting tonight," Harry explained, gesturing to the cup. He told her about how they had found it, how they had been trapped in that tower for a few hours, how they had got out and came back.

" . . . But when we got back they were all . . . dead," he finished, ending in that same flat voice that he had been speaking in when he first arrived. He had buried his head on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault," Ginny told him, stroking his hair again. She understood that he felt guilty, and wanted to take that away from him. This was all Voldemort's doing.

"Hermione said she thinks that Voldemort made it so the magic would only work while someone magic was there. If one of us had stayed they would still be alive. I thought that just before we all left too."

"You could not have known what would happen," Ginny told Harry firmly. "You didn't set up those spells to kill Muggles. You shouldn't blame yourself for this." Even as she said it, Ginny knew her words were not going to make a single ounce of difference to Harry.

"I should have known. It's what always happens. The same thing happened to Cedric, and Sirius because of me," Harry said, still with his head buried on her shoulder. "I'm so scared it's going to happen to you too," he admitted, looking at her.

Overdue, but Ginny was certain this is what Harry had been building up to. He was going to tell her that he wanted to stay away to keep her safe, while he was searching for the Horcruxes. He was going to let go of her and leave again.

"I still don't understand why it has to be you. Surely anyone could track down these things and destroy them," Ginny said, hoping to delay the inevitable fight they were going to have because of his need to play the martyr.

"There's more," Harry didn't let go of her, much to Ginny's relief. "Voldemort came after me because of a real prophecy made by Professor Trelawney before I was born. It said that he would mark me as his equal, and that one of us will have to be defeated by the other in the end." Ginny could see that he added this last part a little reluctantly.

Her worst fears were confirmed. Harry was indeed walking right into an inevitable battle with Voldemort. He had been lucky so far, in being able to escape relatively unscathed, but luck only went so far. Ginny was terrified that Harry's might be close to running out. And she was even more scared that he was going to want to go this last leg of the journey without her, Ron or Hermione.

"It could have been Neville too," Harry told her. "Dumbledore told me that the prophecy could have meant either of us, but Voldemort singled me out."

"Neville wouldn't have stood a chance," Ginny stated.

"I agree." They didn't say anything for a minute, and then Harry spoke again. "Why are you even with me?"

"I love you," Ginny replied immediately.

"Why though? After all of the horrible stuff that I cause."

"You don't cause it. It just happens around you."

They sat there together, in the kitchen of the Weasley home, not speaking. Neither could really think of anything to say after everything that Harry confessed. Finally, feeling drowsy herself, and sure that Harry was probably exhausted after everything he had been though just today, Ginny got up and pulled Harry to his feet, bringing him upstairs with her.

"Can I ask you something?" Ginny asked as she snuggled close to Harry in her bed.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you decide to tell me all of this? You said before that Dumbledore asked you not to tell anyone but Ron and Hermione."

"Because I want you to understand why I don't want you with us. Just tonight, what happened to those people . . . that could have been any one of us. I couldn't keep it from you any more anyway. I don't want to hide anything from you, ever," Harry stated.

"Oh," was all Ginny could say.

She watched as Harry drifted off to sleep. When he was here with her he always slept well, she knew that. Ginny was glad of this, especially now knowing what he was facing. And things were only going to get worse before they got better. Something big was coming she could feel it.


	20. 20 Unwanted, Unknown & Unexpected

CHAPTER TWENTY: UNWANTED, UNKNOWN AND UNEXPECTED

After speaking with Dumbledore, Harry had been certain it would be a lot easier to destroy the cup. He knew what he had to do. If he just thought about Ginny, things would be easy. He wouldn't have to go through all of the things he did when destroying the locket. Unfortunately it wasn't that easy.

Figuring it was best to start with something that had worked once, Harry tried the Reductor Curse again. He stood there with his wand pointed at the cup, which was situated on the table in the library. Summoning the happiest thought he could about Ginny Harry bellowed "REDUCTO!"

He was forced to use diversionary tactics to avoid his own spell. The cup looked completely unscathed.

"I would have been amazed if that had worked," Hermione told him, crawling out from under the table where she had hidden to avoid just this sort of thing. "I mean, d'you really think he would have put the same sort of spell on this item as he did the locket?"

"So what would you suggest we do then?" Harry asked her.

"We're just going to have to start trying things again."

That had been three weeks ago. Now, in the first week of September, Harry was sitting alone in the library. He had his arms folded on the table, head resting in them, staring at the cup that was proving such a headache to destroy.

They had tried every conceivable spell to destroy it. Just the day before Harry, feeling completely frustrated, \ not for the first time that summer, tried dropping the cup from the very top of the stairs on the fifth floor. It clattered to the floor of the entrance hall. The only reward he received for this action was another bout of wailing from Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Shut up you old hag," Harry barked irritably as he came back down the stairs, yanking the curtains over the picture.

"I didn't think that would work either," Hermione replied, earning a glowering look from Harry. "Well I didn't. The Reductor Curse packs a bigger punch than inertia from that height."

Today though, Ron and Hermione were no longer at Order headquarters. After a week of unsuccessful research and attempts at destroying the cup, they had realized that they were not likely to find something sitting in Grimmauld Place. Hermione had stated, somewhat dejectedly, that she wished they were going back to Hogwarts so they could use the library there.

"So write to McGonagall and ask her if you can come down,' Harry said.

She had. It took a few days to get a reply back, but McGonagall told them they were welcome to come by any time. Thus, Ron and Hermione had returned to the castle today, leaving Harry alone in the gloom that was his repugnant house. He had not wanted to go with them. Being back at the castle, but not actually living there would be too much. Instead, he was staying here and continuing the impossible task of destroying this stupid cup.

Harry was sitting at the table in the library that was piled several feet high with useless books. The cup sat there, glinting smugly in the flickering light of the fire burning in the grate. Despite everything they had attempted to do to it, there wasn't a single scratch.

Harry crossed his arms and put them on the table, then he leaned his head on them and continued to stare at the cup, which he was quite sure was mocking him for his lack of success. What where they going to do to get rid of this Horcrux? It was creepy to have this thing with them all this time.

He was again sleeping badly. It didn't really surprise Harry. The only time that he had been able to get a proper nights sleep in the last eleven weeks was when Ginny was with him. But this latest bout of insomnia was causing him to become very irritable once again, and was driving those around him mad.

After staring at that Horcrux for an untold amount of time, Harry found his eyelids getting heavy. He willingly closed them. How soon he drifted into sleep Harry didn't know. But it was one of those situations where he knew that he was dreaming. Ginny was there, and Harry was thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was. He remembered wishing in the dream that she really was there with him. Things were always better when she was.

The shabby walls of Grimmauld Place were now stone. They bordered him on either side; the passage was narrow, and curved downwards. He was descending a set of steep stone stairs that curved with the walls. Many torches hung in metal brackets along the passage, causing flickering silhouettes to play across the walls.

Over the cracking of the flames, and the sound of his feet as he descended the stairs, Harry heard the sound of someone moaning. This pleased him greatly, and he took the last few stairs quicker than he had done the others. He came around the wall and was in a large stone dungeon. There were fewer torches here, but a small red haired figure was discernible lying in the middle. Harry had known from the moment he had started coming down the stairs that it would be Ginny.

When she heard someone approaching she looked up. Never in Harry's recollection had she ever looked as she did now. She was scared, certainly. But there was also a fierce hatred in her eyes.

"What do you want?" she demanded. Harry inwardly groaned, but that feeling was eclipsed by several other feelings: a touch of anger, but admiration as well. No one ever dared talk to him this way. The girl had spirit there was no doubt about that. It would be fun to suck it out of her before the end.

"Tut, tut. What a way to talk to your superiors Ginevra! You are another one that I am going to have to teach manners to before the end," Harry stated. He pulled out his wand, noticing that his fingers were long and much paler than usual. "Crucio," he said, pointing his wand at Ginny. Her screams filled his ear.

Harry jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair, which clattered to the floor with a loud bang. He didn't notice this though. He barely registered the pain in his scar. His mind was consumed with one thought. Voldemort had Ginny! He was torturing her. Harry needed to find her, and rescue her. He was not going to let this be another replay of what happened with Sirius. He was not going to delay.

Halfway down the first set of stairs, Harry stopped. Sirius! This situation was eerily like that one. He had tried to check that Sirius was OK, but Kreacher had lied. If only Harry had remembered that mirror.

The mirror!

Still standing in the middle of the stairs, Harry pulled the mirror, which he carried everywhere with him, out of his pocket. He called Ginny's name. It took a minute, but she finally appeared looking bleary eyed and tousle haired, but otherwise perfectly normal.

"What Harry?" she asked.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were OK," Harry said. He explained what had just happened.

"Sounds a lot like what happened with Sirius," Ginny commented.

"Yeah," Harry agreed with her.

Ginny was just about to start taking the O.W.L.s she had missed in June. Harry felt bad for waking her at this late hour. On the other hand, he was glad that he found her still at home, and not in Voldemort's clutches. He was even more thankful that he had remembered to give Ginny the mirror. It allowed him to confirm that the one thing that he wanted most in the world to avoid had not come to pass.

But that brought some other troubling things to Harry's mind. As he walked down the stairs to get something to eat he started to wonder why he had that vision in the first place. It was obviously planted there by Voldemort. Exactly why was another matter. Surely he didn't think that Harry would fall for that again. Ignoring the fact that he almost had, Harry contemplated the Dark Lord's motivation in this action, for he would surely have one,

Harry seriously doubted that Voldemort was doing it just to mess with his mind. He wanted information. Exactly what was he looking for though? Even more troubling was the fact that Harry was now certain that Voldemort was going to try and get to him by using Ginny.

After a quick bite to eat Harry made his way back up to the library and stared at the cup again, hoping that some brilliant insight would come to him. Nothing did of course. He resorted to looking through some of the books stacked on the table again, hoping that something would jump out at him.

Things were getting more and more dangerous in the world at large. Dark Creature attacks were occurring in multiples each day. The Death Eaters, from what Harry understood, were starting to attack more frequently than ever before, and with more ferocity. This was perhaps the reason that so many Order meetings were scheduled. It seemed like there was at least one a day. Today was no exception.

It was mid-afternoon when Harry took another break. He needed to refresh himself so he went to go take a shower. He heard voices on the other side of the door as he stepped out. It sounded like they had just met because they were exchanging greetings. He recognized both. One belonged to Ginny, Harry's heart leapt. He didn't know she was coming here today. But the other voice belonged to Dudley.

As he got dressed Harry listened to the conversation. The other times that Ginny had been there with Dudley, she hadn't been alone with him. Harry had noticed that she was revolted and annoyed at his cousin's actions, but she had never taken him on one-on-one before. How would Dudley react if he aggravated her enough to get hexed?

"Did you hear about my mum and dad?' Dudley asked in a sullen voice. He had indeed been walking around in a much more somber mood since the death of his parents. This was certainly understandable, but Harry knew he was not the only one that thought Dudley was acting more than feeling. It was a game to get more sympathy from people.

"Yes I did, I'm sorry," Ginny replied. From the tone of her voice she sounded like she was trying to empathize, but also wanted to get away from the lump as soon as she could. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude but I'm actually looking for Harry. Have you seen him?"

"No," Dudley lied. Harry had seen him ten minutes before and had told him exactly where he was going. He lowered his voice a little so that Harry had to strain to hear. "But maybe there's something I can help you with?" It would have been an innocent enough question, if it were not for Dudley's suggestive tone. From the sound of the question, Harry was quite certain that his cousin was leering. It made him angry, and he pulled his shirt on without realizing it was inside out.

"No, I don't think so," Ginny replied in a way that clearly showed she was disgusted. "I'll just find him myself thanks." Harry heard her start to walk away. Dudley called after her.

"You know you could do so much better than him," that same suggestive note was in his voice again.

"Really? With someone like yourself perhaps?' Ginny asked. Harry imagined that she had just spun around to face his cousin, probably with her arms folded.

"Well . . . " Dudley was probably grinning broadly now. Harry was listening raptly. He was already smiling. He didn't think that Ginny was remotely interested in Dudley. When she had been staying there before she had threatened to curse Dudley more than once. She hadn't had to act on it yet though because Harry had usually intervened, and for some reason his cousin was now afraid of him.

Harry quietly opened the door. He needed to see this. Ginny was indeed standing with her arms crossed. She saw that he was standing there, but shook her head very slightly telling him not to interrupt.

"So what do you say?" Dudley asked in that same suggestive manner.

"Let me think about that . . . " Ginny pretended to think for a minute. "Uh . . . sure when that portrait downstairs starts talking civilly." This comment went right over Dudley's head. Harry was smiling behind him, leaning on the doorframe as he watched the scene play out.

"Was that a yes?" Dudley asked, hopefully.

"Oh yeah, of course," Ginny replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "No of course it isn't." She slapped away Dudley's hand, which had been stretching towards her. "I would never do that to Harry, least of all with you."

Dudley backed away a few steps, as though she had slapped him in the face.

"What do you see in him anyway?" he asked grouchily.

"Everything that I don't see in you," she answered smiling and looking directly at Harry for the first time. Dudley looked at her for a minute and then spun around. He looked scared when he saw Harry standing there. "D'you really think that I would even be interested in someone that would do something like that to his own cousin anyway?' Ginny questioned, sidestepping Dudley and coming over to Harry.

"I don't think he would really care," Harry told her, leaning down to kiss her lips. "What are you doing here anyway? How was your exam?"

"Mum's here for an Order meeting. It was boring. I really hate History of Magic. And it's only the first one," Ginny responded moodily as she followed Harry back upstairs.

He didn't know what it was about the library. It was perhaps the fact that he had been spending so much time there that he automatically journeyed to it whenever on the stairs.

"At least you're done in a week rather than the normal two," Harry told her. Those that had missed their tests in June were taking them at the Ministry. Because of the danger out there, it had been requested that the schedule be condensed.

"Yeah, but two exams a day – you try doing that," Ginny complained as she and Harry sat in one of the winged back chairs that were placed the back wall of the library.

"No thanks," Harry stated, smiling as he stroked her hair. He was glad to have her here, even for the short time. It relieved his worry, which had again intensified after realizing that Voldemort was more aware of his relationship with Ginny than Harry wanted.

"So how are you coming on with destroying that thing?" Ginny gestured over to the table where all of the books were still piled two feet high.

"Not well. Nothing we try works," Harry admitted. "I know it's not impossible to destroy it, but it almost feels like it is."

"Brew up some amortentia and dip it in," Ginny suggested jokingly.

Harry laughed, but stopped to ponder that for a second. The one thing that Voldemort underestimated was love. What would happen if you stuck a Horcrux, something that was created by the ultimate act of evil, into something that was almost it's exact counter? It seemed odd, but he was actually thinking of trying it. Then Ginny dashed his hopes.

"That wouldn't work anyway. It's not real love right?"

"No."

"I think Fred and George would probably be the best ones to ask in a case like this," Ginny said a few minutes later as she rested her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Er . . . " Harry didn't know what to say to this. He didn't doubt that the twins were brilliant when it came to gadgets, and that they might be able to help. However, telling them about the cup meant that yet two more people would know about the Horcruxes. He was already stretching by telling Ginny about them. But the more he thought about it, the longer they delayed the more horrible things that were happening, risking everyone's lives. It might be worth a go. "OK," Harry agreed.

"Great. I'll get them to come up here when the Order meeting is over," Ginny replied. Seeing the blank look on Harry's face she explained. "Oh, did I forget to tell you. They finally joined the Order, just last week in fact. Mum was not happy," she grimaced at this recollection. "Couldn't hear properly for about a day. I can't believe I forgot to tell you."

Harry and Ginny hadn't been talking very much. She had been busy revising for her exams, and Harry had been busy getting nothing done again. Over the last few weeks they had barely talked. Most of their conversations were just cursory checks to make sure that the other was still OK.

Harry had returned from the Burrow the night after finding the cup feeling much better than he had when he arrived there. At least, he felt better until he reentered Grimmauld Place. He hadn't told the others that he was going to The Burrow. They had apparently been worried for hours about him until, through a message from Mr. Weasley to Lupin, they learned where Harry had gone.

Hermione in particular was unimpressed with this action. She had been very irritable with Harry all day, and kept making comments about how irresponsible it was for him to do such a thing. Death Eaters could have taken him and they would never have known. She finally relented though when Harry told her that he needed to get out of the dreary place that was Order headquarters after all the bad news of that night.

"Yeah, I guess Fred and George might be able to help," Harry added.

Thus, both Ginny and Harry went to find the newest Order members shortly thereafter. Ginny did most of the talking when they were once again situated in the library. She didn't mention the word Horcrux. She simply said that it was an object imbued with Dark Magic that they were trying to destroy. Then she had Harry tell the twins what he had tried already, and what had happened when he had tried the multitudes of spells.

"Interesting," Fred said, rubbing his chin as he looked at the golden cup, which was no longer looking as smug as it had before. "Must have quite the wicked spell on it to block your Reductor. That should have worked like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Very odd," George agreed.

"Give us a few minutes. We'll think of something."

Fred and George sat together at the table talking in very low voices. Every once in a while they would glance at the cup appraisingly. Finally after about ten minutes George spoke.

"You've only tried spells right?"

"That's right," Harry told them.

"And you haven't tried potions or beasts of any sort?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well then we think we know just what you need to try mate," Fred spoke. "Chizpurfles."

'Huh?" Harry asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he had no idea what they were. Maybe it was something that Fred and George had invented.

"They love magic. They usually will eat the remnants of potions out of cauldrons and things like that," George explained. "One of those'd probably be able to eat right through whatever spell is on this here cup." He went to pat it and jumped back in alarm, another burn victim.

"Sorry about that. I should have told you it does that," Harry apologized. He gave the cup a glowering look. That stupid thing was getting on his last nerve. He wanted to be shot of it three weeks ago after the scene on Glastonbury Tor. Remembering all of those poor Muggles, he told Fred and George that their suggestion was worth a try. They said they would be in touch after discussing the matter with a 'contact' of theirs.

"Mundungus?" Harry asked, absentmindedly.

"Yeah," Fred admitted.

"OK," Harry wasn't too impressed with having to deal with the skiving sneak thief (as Mrs. Figg had so accurately called him two years before) but he would do what he must just to get rid of this stupid Horcrux. He nodded to show his assent. "As quick as you can please."

"Right, we'll find him straight away," George said as the twins left the room.

Harry sank a little farther back into his chair. He was thinking again of those Muggles at the Tor. They had probably thought they would spend a nice day sightseeing, and then have stories to tell their families when they got back. But, of course they didn't get back. They had died.

Harry was revolted at the very thought of everything that had happened in that tower. He was mad at himself for not keeping Dumbledore's words fresh in his mind. He was angry about the fact that he had not listened to his instinct and had either stayed behind, or had Ron or Hermione stay. He was furious at Voldemort for being the cold-blooded murderer that he was, and even putting a spell like that in place, and for making the damned Horcrux in the first place. But right now he was feeling mostly revulsion at what he, Ron and Hermione had had to do.

Sure that Voldemort would be alerted as to what had caused a mass Muggle death at that popular landmark; Harry, Ron and Hermione had all agreed that they couldn't leave those people there. They had, as per Ron's suggestion, moved the bodies to less obvious places. It had been nearly impossible to do. By the time the last person had been moved all three of them were in tears and all felt as though they were weighted down with every body they had to transport. It was an experience that Harry never, ever wanted to relive again.

Harry had told Ginny this part when they woke up together the next morning. He had been scared this would be the last straw for her, and she would turn away from him in disgust, but she hadn't. She had just felt really bad for what he had to do, and angry with Voldemort for yet another thing.

Mrs. Weasley came upstairs shortly thereafter, not to tell Ginny that it was time to return to the Burrow, but rather that she and Mr. Weasley were going to be busy with Order business for the next few days and they were going to be staying at Grimmauld Place. She wanted Ginny to come home now only to get her things and then they would be returning.

"What great news!" Ginny said, bounding out of the room. Mrs. Weasley watched her go that same worried look on her face. She motioned Harry over to her before she followed her daughter.

"Harry, we're not going to be around much. Will you be able to see that she gets safely to the ministry and back for her O.W.L.s?"

"Of course," Harry replied, wondering exactly what was going to be keeping the Weasleys so busy. He also wondered, and not for the first time, exactly what the Order was doing out there. They certainly didn't seem to be making any progress; the Death Eaters were wreaking havoc.

It wasn't all that exciting their first night nearly alone. Ginny spent it revising for her Potions exam, and Harry sat reading an old book of wizarding history hoping, without much conviction, that he might stumble across something that would help in the hunt for that last mysterious Horcrux, or miraculously, aid in the destruction of Hufflepuff's cup.

Harry spent the majority of the next week buried behind this or that large book as he sat in the ministry waiting for Ginny to finish her exams. He really was glad when they were over and he could get out of that place once and for all.

They hadn't heard anything from Fred and George, or Ron and Hermione. After two week had passed, Harry was starting to worry. What if something had happened to them and they were not able to get in contact. It was Ginny that pointed out that they would certainly have heard about it if something had gone awry. Ron and Hermione were at Hogwarts, with McGonagall. The twins were the suppliers of gadgets and things for the Order, if they weren't around for a whole week people would notice.

September was fast drawing to a close when Fred, George, Ron and Hermione reappeared at Grimmauld Place. As had been the pattern that summer, news and activity seemed to come in great dollops. For weeks Harry had been trying to destroy that cup, with ever increasing frustration at his lack of success. Ron and Hermione had been gone for nearly two weeks, without one single quill scratch about the progress they were making.

Fred and George came bursting into Order headquarters a little under two weeks after they said they would track down a Chizpurfle for Harry.

"There you go," Fred said, depositing a tiny glass jar into Ginny's hand. "Just tip this onto that cup and it'll devour the magic."

"You sure this'll work?" Ginny asked, holding it to eye level attempting to see the little critter.

"Yes," Fred replied. "We'd stay and demonstrate but duty calls. We have a massive order that we need to finish up for the ministry. Mind you behave yourselves." He gave Harry and Ginny a roguish grin, and then disappeared through the front door with George.

"Did you want to try this right now?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded. It had been over a month since they had got the cup. He wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible.

"Let's just go in here," Harry stated, motioning to the drawing room. They were still alone in the house, Lupin and Tonks both off doing their parts in this war. Dudley had been steering clear of them for the last few weeks. No one knew, or cared, what he did all day.

Harry went upstairs and got the cup out of his trunk. Then he dashed back downstairs. Ginny was waiting there, the glass jar still in her hand.

"Well, here goes –" Harry said, very nervously. He didn't really want to even think about what might happen when that little creature started to gnaw at the magic that was surrounding the object. He tipped the jar down so that the little bug would fall right out into the cup. It was so tiny he wasn't sure If there was even anything in the jar. Had it not been for a very faint buzzing, he would have thought this was another of Fred and George's hoaxes.

Harry and Ginny sat and watched the cup for a full five minutes, with no change.

"How are we going to know if this works?" Ginny wondered aloud.

"I dunno. The locket, when I destroyed that, gave off a huge amount of green smoke, there was this shrieking sound, and it shook the room. I'm not sure if that was because of the fact it was a Horcrux, or just the spell."

It was after ten minutes that the little beast seemed to have made some progress. It was actually visible looking like a piece of dust that was creeping along the edge of the cup. Harry and Ginny had read in their copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that Chizpurfles could become very hard to eradicate if they gorged on too much magic. Feeling that the little critter would probably be getting more than feast's worth of magic, they had ordered a potion that would get rid of the bug when the job was done.

They couldn't really tell if any progress was being made. At least they couldn't verify visually. After those ten minutes, just when they started to notice the thing crawling, Harry started to feel a tingling in his scar. He scratched it, not taking his eyes of that cup. He had spent so much time staring at that thing lately that he was sure there would be a permanent impression of it on his retina soon.

That tingling sensation in his scar started to twinge, then it started to throb, then it ached. The pain increased more and more as time went on.

His eyes watering from the pain, it felt like someone was drilling into Harry's skull through his scar. He couldn't even see the tiny bug that was now about the size of a small fly.

"Are you OK Harry?" Ginny asked, concern once again in her voice.

Harry shook his head. No, he was blinded by anguish. It could only be coming from what the Chizpurfle was doing to that cup. He didn't like this at all, but knew that it was working. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. Soon it would break through that barrier and it would all be over. If he could just hang on . . .

Just as the pain reached such a pitch that blackness threatened Harry's vision there was a loud bang that shook the room. As before there was a loud shrieking and they were engulfed in that thick green smoke.

Harry felt relieved. That was two Horcruxes down. There was only one more to find and destroy. Then he passed out.

How long he was out was unclear but there were several voices around when Harry regained consciousness.

He almost wished he hadn't. When he attempted to sit up a great wave of dizziness overcame him, and he felt a little ill. His head was throbbing painfully.

"Oh," he moaned, putting his hand to his head.

"Oh good, you're awake," Ginny's voice said. She was speaking way too loud given that she was quite close. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I drank a bottle of firewhiskey," Harry said. His voice was raspy. "How long have I been out?"

"Eight hours," Ginny replied, the volume of her voice still far too high.

"Not so loud," Harry stated, wincing.

"Loud? I'm practically whispering," Ginny said, looking at him in concern again. "Does it really seem loud?"

Harry grunted his answer. Nodding his head hurt too much. His head hurt more right now than it had after he had his skull fractured by that bludger several months before.

"I suspect its that connection again," Hermione's voice screeched through Harry's head, making him cringe again. Why did everyone need to talk so damn loud?

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, covering Harry's ears before she answered, shielding him a little from the loudness. "You screamed just as that smoke appeared," she said to Harry. "Did you do that last time?"

"Dunno," he stated, realizing for the first time that he was parched. He didn't recall screaming, but that would explain why his throat felt so sore. Come to think of it, he remembered a little of that when he had destroyed the locket. It now seemed likely that he had screamed before.

"Are you well enough to hear our news?" Hermione asked. She sounded absolutely ecstatic.

"I hope it's good," Harry said, sitting up very slowly with Ginny's help.

"Well –" Harry saw that Hermione was dancing on the balls of her feet. "- you may be wondering why we haven't been in touch over the last couple of weeks. We were going to, you see, but were trying to work as quickly as possible. Madam Pince was no help of course –"

"Hermione just get to the point," Ron said, sounding irritable. She looked angrily at him.

"Ron it's not that simple. We need to explain –"

"We found the unknown Horcrux," Ron interrupted her. He reached into his bag and pulled out an old, battered box. Taking the lid off, he extracted a thin wand. Ron and Hermione were beaming as they looked at it.

There was something very familiar about that wand.

"It's the wand that used to sit in Ollivander's window," Ginny stated in an amazed voice.

"The very one. And before that it belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw!"


	21. 21 The Unwelcome Interloper

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE UNWELCOME INTERLOPER

"How could it be?" Harry asked, ignoring the aching in his head as he sat up quickly to get a clear look at that wand.

"It's a fascinating story," Hermione stated.

"Yeah, bloody fascinating," Ron replied quietly. That same irritation was still carrying through in his voice. Harry was torn between wanting to know how they had discovered this was the last Horcrux, and why Ron was so annoyed about it.

"Ignore him. He's been in a bad mood for days," Hermione said, turning her back on Ron in a huff. "Anyway, it really is interesting and quite a twist of fate that we ended up with this in the first place. We wouldn't have done if Ronald had his way," she glowered at him again as she took a seat.

"You were the one that felt the need to run of with Vicky," Ron stated angrily. His voice was a little louder, causing Harry to cover his own ears. The sensitivity was wearing off as the pain in his scar started to slowly ebb away, but voices were still very loud.

"I didn't run off with him," Hermione replied sharply. "I only wrote to him because Durmstrang has a reputation for being a school that teaches the Dark Arts. I just thought that they would have a lot more information than Hogwarts about Horcruxes. Seeing as he went there –"

"You figured that would be a good cover story," Ron interrupted.

"No. I don't know why you can't just get over your jealousy of him," Hermione retorted.

"There they go again," Harry muttered to Ginny. She rolled her eyes before piping up.

"Listen you two, sort out your relationship issues later. Tell us about how you got this wand. How do you know it was Ravenclaw's? How did you get it when it was in Mr. Ollivander's shop? And what makes you think that it's the unknown Horcrux?"

"I was trying to," Hermione snapped, looking at Ron again. "But some people can't get over their jealousy long enough to –"

"I'm not jealous," Ron fired at her, causing Harry to wince again at the volume of his response. "You're the one that keeps throwing that joke of a relationship in my face."

"I haven't been."

"Hey," Ginny yelled at the two of them to get their attention. "We're in no mood for your bickering today. Out with it, or I'll have to start hexing you." She pulled out her wand to show she was serious.

"I agree," Harry responded, pulling his out as well. "Hermione, just tell us how this all came about." He looked at Ron. "And please don't interrupt her. You two can continue your argument later."

Hermione looked at Ron smugly, probably gloating that she had been asked to talk. Then she sat back in the chair opposite Harry and Ginny, Ron grudgingly sitting down beside her.

"Well like I said, we weren't having much luck at the Hogwarts library. I remembered that Slughorn had said that Horcruxes were a banned topic at the school. So we decided that our time would be better spent looking for lost artifacts of the Hogwarts founders. As you can guess there's a lot to look through, but we couldn't find anything at all. We even asked Madam Pince. She was no help whatsoever. She gave us a list of books that related to the founders, but nothing that mentioned lost artifacts.

"After about a week of that we realized that this was the wrong way to go. We were actually contemplating coming home that very day when Pigwidgeon turned up with a letter for me. It was from Viktor." She stopped talking and glanced nervously at Ron. He was looking in the other direction.

"You're still writing to him?" Ginny asked, incredulously.

"Off and on," Hermione replied waving her hand vaguely. "Well, then I got the idea that maybe he would be able to get us information from Durmstrang. Like I said before, I knew that they had that reputation for teaching the Dark Arts so were bound to have loads of books on the subject. I was hoping he would be able to look in the library there for me. Instead, he wrote back and asked us both to come.

"I was right, they have loads of information on Horcruxes there. Nothing on how to create one, thank goodness," she added when Harry looked alarmed. This was just what they needed, a load of other wizards creating the foul objects. "But they do have information on how to destroy them. Most require immensely complex spells. I would venture to say that it would normally take someone like Dumbledore to destroy them. It specifically said that the simple spells like you used wouldn't work if the Horcrux was guarded properly," Hermione explained, looking at Harry. "I think that Dumbledore was absolutely right. You were able to destroy that Horcrux because you can love."

"That didn't work on the cup though did it?" Harry stated.

"Well, no," Hermione conceded. "But I have a feeling that was a later creation than the locket, so he probably put a stronger spell on it."

"How does that relate to how you got this Horcrux though?" Harry asked, looking at the wand, now lying on the table next to Hufflepuff's cup, which looked charred.

"it doesn't really. Except for the fact that had we not gone there, we wouldn't have met with Mr. Ollivander," Ron spoke up. "He's been hiding in the North with that Bulgarian wandmaker, Gregorovitch. He told us he didn't want to be contracted by the Death Eaters to make wands for them."

"Well that explains his disappearance," Ginny said. "I guess that's good news for our side,"

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Anyways, he somehow found out that we were there and got in contact with Viktor," Hermione continued. "We were ever so shocked when he did."

"To say the least," Ron agreed.

"Well, we were staying at an inn. There was a sudden knock on the door and Viktor came in with Mr. Ollivander. He's not looking so well. I don't think he's long for the world, living as he has been.

"He told us he's been on the run from the Death Eaters for over a year, moving from place to place. He only met up with Gregorovitch recently. He thinks that in addition to wanting him to be their personal wandmaker, the Death Eaters might be after him because of this wand.

"He told us he's suspected there was something odd about it for years. This was probably the reason for that creepy feeling people get when walking into his shop. At least that is what he thought, and I have to agree."

"I don't know if I buy that though," Harry said. "I mean wouldn't someone, like Dumbledore have been able to figure that out? Or wouldn't anyone have been able to determine that it was a Horcrux?"

"That does seem a little odd," Hermione admitted. "And Mr. Ollivander was evasive about why he didn't tell anyone of his suspicions. In any case, what would his reason be to lie to us? No one knows that we're searching for the Horcruxes. He didn't even mention the word. He just told us he thought it had something to do with Voldemort."

"Maybe he's working for Voldemort and is doing it to mess with your minds," Ginny supplied. It was a throwaway suggestion that she didn't even seem convinced of.

"It's possible, but not likely," Harry told her. If Voldemort had done something like this it would be a sure sign that he knew they knew about his Horcruxes. If that were the case he probably would have done something more overt. Quite apart from that reasoning, Harry said what he did because he wanted this to be that last Horcrux. They would then be that much closer to getting rid of Voldemort. He just didn't want to think about what they would have to do to destroy it.

"We're hoping that this one won't be as hard to destroy as the cup and locket because from the sound of it he did this one very early on. Probably when he was working at Borgin and Burkes," Hermione spoke again. "It wasn't even cursed from what Mr. Ollivander told us."

Harry sat up quickly and stared at the wand. There was something very dodgy about this. Why would this wand be unguarded? It was on display for years, and never even had a protective spell around it? That definitely didn't sound like Voldemort. Was it perhaps done to lure the unwary into a false sense of security? Would something horrendous happen when they attempted to get rid of it?

"So why did he give this to you guys anyway?" Ginny asked. "Why now?"

"He said he wanted to give it to Dumbledore, but hadn't been able to get to him before he died. Then remembering Harry, and that connection his wand shared with Voldemort, he figured he would be the next best choice."

"He only came to us because of that article in the Daily Prophet. You know the one that you were misquoted in, regarding Voldemort's real identity. He saw us in the picture and our names at the end of the article. I guess he put two and two together and remembered all of that stuff from a few years back. You know, all of that Rita Skeeter rubbish about that love triangle between you, me and Krum," Hermione said. She seemed a little angry at this recollection, not unlike Harry's own reaction to Snape.

"That seems too simple," Harry said distractedly.

"Yeah, but simple might be a good thing. I mean after everything we've already been through," Ron said.

"It would be, but this is Voldemort we're talking about. He doesn't tend to make life simple. I don't want to play Russian roulette with this thing too. Who knows what will happen when we make an attempt to destroy it." Harry wasn't looking forward to the potential terrible effects that he might have to go through again, or what might happen to those around him when he tried to destroy this wand.

"Any idea how to demolish this one?" Ginny asked.

"Uh . . . no," Hermione admitted. "I think we were close before this whole Ollivander thing, but then we came back here straight away."

"So that's another item we'll be staring at for days if not weeks," Harry said grumpily. He supposed on the whole he should have been pleased at how quickly they had found the Horcruxes. He was amazed, but knew that meant he was that much closer to that inevitable battle with Voldemort. But then something occurred to him. The wand wasn't cursed right? Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad after all.

"Three more weeks wasted," Ginny complained.

"Maybe not," Harry said, getting shakily to his feet. If the wand really wasn't cursed than it might be quite easy to destroy it indeed. He was remembering the journey to Hogwarts in his second year. When they had crashed into the Whomping Willow in Mr. Weasley's car, Ron's wand had broken. This was the best demonstration to show that wands weren't indestructible.

He seized the wand in both hands, brought it down, and his leg up. His reward for this attempt was a new pain in his thigh, which mixed unpleasantly with the still present pain in his head.

Dropping the wand into its box on the table, Harry sank back onto the couch.

"I think that you were given wrong information Hermione. I think it's cursed after all," he told her, massaging his leg.

"Just because that didn't work, doesn't mean it's cursed," Hermione said, coming to sit down beside Harry, a look of concern on her face. "It could just have a protective spell on it."

Harry didn't answer her. He was starting to feel more drained than he had just a few moments before. Yet it was rather odd. Ever other attempt he had made at destroying the cup and the locket had usually resulted in some sort of pain or twinging in his scar, even if he was thinking about Ginny. This time though, he felt only the same dull aching in his scar that had already been there.

Harry had a sudden thought.

"I don't think this is a Horcrux," he stated suddenly, causing Ron and Hermione to look at him.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked in a shocked voice.

"Harry, I know you're frustrated that your attempt to destroy this object didn't work. That doesn't mean we should discount it though."

"I'm not. But before when I would destroy one I would feel this pain in my scar. This time I didn't feel anything. I think that Mr. Ollivander was wrong about this being a Horcrux," Harry stated, gesturing to the wand.

"But . . . " Hermione was looking rather crestfallen. So was Ron. Harry completely understood. They had thought they were doing something to help get rid of Voldemort. To turn around and have this excellent discovery flouted would be an upset, there was no mistake about that.

"Maybe it's a different spell that's guarding it, which is why you didn't feel anything," Ron said, in defense of Hermione. She looked stunned at his suggestion, but rather pleased all the same. Had their little row been completely avoided?

"It's possible. But I have a feeling that this isn't the Horcrux." Harry was remembering something else that Dumbledore had mentioned that night they seen the memory of Slughorn's conversation with Tom Riddle. The headmaster had thought that Voldemort might have only had five Horcruxes the night that he had come to Godric's Hollow. Could it be that Dumbledore was wrong? Maybe Voldemort only had four Horcruxes, and Nagini was five. He voiced this theory to Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

"Could he really have been that wrong?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. Dumbledore's guesses usually turned out to be right. In this case he was quite certain that the headmaster wouldn't have brought up these points if he weren't confident in his assertions.

"We're going back to Durmstrang tomorrow. There are still a few things that I want to take a look at. Ways of detecting that the object is a Horcrux. We want to make sure that it isn't before we completely disregard it," Hermione said in a determined voice. Then she stood up. She motioned for Ron to come with her, which he did without question.

"We'll talk to you in the morning," Hermione called as they left the room.

"I guess we should go too. It's almost sunrise," Ginny said. She helped Harry to his feet. He was still feeling a little unbalanced after the destruction of the cup. They slowly made their way to the hall, but were fated not to leave that room together. Mrs. Weasley met them at the door.

"Oh good you're both here," she said. She tried to smile, but like her daughter, it didn't quite permeate the worry that was eating at her.

"What's wrong mum?" Ginny asked, now looking worried too. They were well practiced at this routine. Whenever someone from the Order entered the house and came to find them, there was always a sense of mounting tension. Were they going to tell them that someone else had been murdered?

"Nothing . . . nothing dear," Mrs. Weasley tried to smile again. It was just then that Harry noticed how drawn she looked. He had been so absorbed in the dreadful task that he had to do, that he hadn't really spared much thought for others. The Weasleys were affected by this whole situation almost as much as Harry was. The difference being that he had set of on this terrible journey more or less of his own free will. They had been dragged into it because of Ginny and, to a lesser degree, Ron.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Molly told her daughter. "Thank goodness we're going to be going home soon. That will make everything a little better."

"What?" Harry asked completely alert for the first time since Ron and Hermione's incredible pronouncement.

"That's what I came to find Ginny for. We've finished the work that we were doing for the Order so we are not going to need to stay here any longer. It will be nice to return home – not that we don't appreciate you letting us stay here Harry," she added quickly.

Harry didn't register the last part of her statement. The only thing that had sunk in was the fact that Ginny was going to be leaving. He felt very uneasy about this.

Harry understood why Mrs. Weasley wanted to get out of this house. It was nearly the same reason that Ginny had wanted to five weeks earlier. It was a dismal place to live. If it weren't for the fact that they were relatively safe here he wouldn't have been staying himself. Even so, he didn't like the idea that they were going back to a place that was, despite attempts to convince him otherwise, very open to Death Eaters and Voldemort.

"I don't think that's a good idea, at least not right now," Harry told Mrs. Weasley. "Things are getting very dangerous out there. You couldn't have picked a worse time to return home."

Mrs. Weasley looked from her daughter to Harry. That scared and apprehensive look she had been wearing disappeared and she looked a little stern.

"No Harry, we've trespassed upon your hospitality long enough. Arthur, Ginny and I need to get back home. Arthur needs to return to work, Ginny needs to get back to her studies, and I am going to have a lot of work to do at the Burrow. I'm afraid this business of staying here has thrown us all into a tailspin," she explained. When Harry opened his mouth to comment about the danger they would be in, she put up her hand and spoke again. "Not to worry though Harry, if we hear even one peep about Death Eaters or You-Know-Who planning anything we'll come straight back."

Harry wasn't convinced. From the look that Mrs. Weasley had on her face when she glanced from him to Ginny, he was quite certain that she was more worried about how close their relationship had come than getting things in order at the Burrow. He could understand to a small degree. It was probably quite troubling to think of her youngest child involved in that kind of relationship; but really, to put her own daughter in danger because of it? It was something that he had never thought Mrs. Weasley even capable of.

"Harry has a point mum," Ginny said. "I know this place is abhorrent but it really is better than the Burrow right now. In fact, I wish that everyone was staying here."

"Don't be silly. We can't trespass on Harry's hospitality any further."

"I don't mind," Harry said at once. Mrs. Weasley remained unconvinced.

"I'm not going," Ginny stated, crossing her arms, and looking stubbornly at her mother. Mrs. Weasley glared at her daughter.

"You most certainly are," she replied.

"No. Harry needs me here,"

Mrs. Weasley glanced from Harry to Ginny yet again. "I'm sure he will be fine without you for a little while. It might be good for you two to spend some time apart. It helps strengthen your relationship." She was wearing an expression that confirmed Harry's thoughts that she was concerned about the physical aspects of their relationship.

"Not because of that," Ginny fumed, correctly interpreting her mother's look. "We've been working on something in regards to the war. So have Ron and Hermione. They're leaving tomorrow though."

"And what would that be exactly?' Mrs. Weasley looked suspicious. Her radar seemed to be telling her that Ginny wasn't being truthful. Too bad it was a bit faulty this time.

"We're working on a way of defeating Voldemort," Harry said. This wasn't the answer Molly had been expecting. Her mouth fell open in shock. If she had been holding anything she surely would have dropped it.

"Why are you doing that?" she asked in voice that was shaking with fear, and worry now.

"Because I have to," Harry said simply. He had been the one that had told Ron and Hermione they were going to leave out details of their mission when they left the Burrow the day after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Mrs. Weasley was a worrier. Learning that Harry was the one that had to destroy the feared wizard would probably send her into convulsions of terror. Right now though, he was willing to risk that if she would change her mind about returning to the Burrow.

"Oh Harry, no," she moaned quietly, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. "You should leave that to someone else. Someone that's more –"

"I can't do that Mrs. Weasley. I have to be the one to finish him," Harry explained. He was not going to tell her about the prophecy, and definitely not about the Horcruxes though.

"It's true mum," Ginny said going over to her mother and embracing her, as tears started to fall freely down the older woman's face. "I don't like it either."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to worry you, but I can't just let him alone out there ruining everyone's lives," Harry told her. These words had no positive effect. Once they had left his mouth Mrs. Weasley started to sob harder than ever.

"Hermione and R- R – Ron are involved in this too?" Molly finally asked, looking from Ginny to Harry. He nodded reluctantly. He was feeling very guilty now. He didn't want Mrs. Weasley to worry, but she was undoubtedly going to do just that now. Maybe he really should have let her think that he wanted Ginny there for carnal reasons.

"We're nearly there though," Harry told her. He didn't know whether this would console her or not. Somehow he doubted it though, especially given the fact that he had just finished telling her that he was the one that had to finish the Dark Lord.

Mrs. Weasley clutched her heart. "Oh dear – oh dear – oh dear," she cried through gales of tears. Harry didn't know what to do. He had just, once again, made things worse. He looked at Ginny, hoping that she would have a suggestion. She waved him away.

Harry stood up, his legs still a little unsteady, and made his way upstairs.

It was over an hour before Ginny joined him. During that time he thought about the Horcruxes. Was Dumbledore right or not? Had Voldemort made five or six Horcruxes? If it was five then they only had the snake left. If it was six there was still the matter of that unknown Horcrux. It didn't seem to be the wand, what could it be then?

He thought about where they had been so far. He had been to the cave with Dumbledore, the orphanage, Glastonbury Tor, the Gaunt House, and Little Hangleton. The only other memories that he had seen had been in Hepzibah Smith's house and at Hogwarts. He doubted there was a Horcrux at the school. If there had been Dumbledore surely would have found it. Then again, he hadn't found the Chamber of Secrets . . .

Ginny's entrance into the room distracted Harry from his thoughts.

"We're leaving tomorrow," she said, lying down beside Harry and putting her arm around him. "I couldn't persuade her to stay here. She thinks that we're too close. She's more worried about that now, after what you just told her."

"D'you think she'd reconsider if I talked to her again?' Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head. "She was quite adamant."

"Ah well . . . " Harry sighed. He pulled Ginny close to him. They might as well make the most of their time together. He decided not to tell her just now that he had made up his mind to go back to Hogwarts. They could talk about that later.

As was usually the case when there was a whole group of people leaving, it was chaos. Mrs. Black's portrait had started to shout again, but the noise was at such a volume that her pure blood diatribe was barely discernible.

Just that morning Harry had told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny that he suspected the final Horcrux was at Hogwarts. They were all stunned and wanted to know why he thought that, and how he had come to that conclusion. Harry told them very simply that it was just a hunch. They were not crazy about him going off to the school alone. Ron and Hermione offered to come with him and forget about Durmstrang.

"No, it's important that you get as much information about the Horcruxes as possible," Harry told them. "Just in case, you know . . . "

Ginny was equally unhappy about this separation. She, like Harry, didn't enjoy the idea of him being outside of her sight, and of the safe house. She was extremely unsure about what he might find at Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets was there, along with who knew what other dangerous artifacts, or rooms. They had all been going to the school for years, however it was a tremendous castle. When you had lessons and other restrictions to worry about you didn't necessarily get a lot of time to go ferreting around.

"Watch your step," Ginny told Harry as she and her parents made ready to leave.

"Don't worry about me," he said out of habit, knowing that she was going to do just that. He certainly was going to worry about her, being exposed to Voldemort again. "Be very careful. Remember Moody's refrain of 'constant vigilance?' Make sure you practice it!"

With one last kiss she and her parents disappeared. Harry had come outside with them. Once they were gone he concentrated his mind on Hogsmeade, and appeared there a few seconds later.

He was standing on the High Street. It was usually bustling with people. Even during his last year at the school, when things had started to get really bad, there had always been a few people milling about. Today, however, there was no one. No activity could be seen in any of the shops. Many of said shops had been boarded up. The small village was eerily still and silent. It reminded Harry of a ghost town that he had seen on a movie once.

He had brought Hedwig with the intention of sending a letter up to the school once he reached the village. He hadn't counted on such desolation here though. The Three Broomsticks, where he had planned to go, was boarded up tight, as was Honeydukes.

Feeling it was not a good idea to linger overly long on a deserted street, Harry set off for the only other pub in the village hoping against all hope that the place was still open.

It was. He stepped inside and found it crowded with all sorts of people. This was a shock, given the lack of them outside this establishment. No one gave him a second look, which was all the better. He sidled up to the bar, figuring he would order a Butterbeer. This would allow him the time he needed to write his letter, send it and get a response, if all went well.

It wasn't the usual bartender that produced the dusty bottle this time. He paid his two sickles, then sat at the bar, pulled out a quill and some parchment, and started to write. He hadn't got more than a few words down when someone grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him off his stool.

Harry, taken unaware, and silently cursing himself for already forgetting the mantra of constant vigilance, fought against the very tight grip that the unwelcome interloper had on him. It was useless though. What a situation to get himself into!

Harry was dragged into a back room that was filled with boxes, which must have been supplies. He was overwhelmed with a smell that had permeated the entire pub, that of goats. Casting that oddity aside, Harry turned to face his attacker, hastily extracting his wand from inside his jacket.

It was very dark in the room, the only light coming from the small, grimy windows that barely let in the weak September sun.

The sight he saw nearly made him drop his wand. The person standing mere feet from him looked very familiar, even in the dim light. How could that be?

"Professor Dumbledore?"


	22. 22 Harry's Worst Fear

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: HARRY'S WORST FEAR

Dumbledore's portrait was hanging in the headmistress's office up at the school. That didn't happen until the person had died. How could he be standing here?

As these thoughts crowded to the forefront of his mind, a wand tip ignited and Harry's questions were answered. It wasn't Albus Dumbledore.

"Who are you?" he asked, sure that this was Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother. Who else could it be? As far as Harry knew his former headmaster didn't have another living relative. And, now he was looking a little closer and his sense was catching up with reality, he knew he was right. A little older, yes, but Aberforth Dumbledore hadn't changed much from the old picture of the Order of the Phoenix Harry had seen two years previous. That also explained the smell of goats that permeated The Hogs Head Inn. From what Professor Dumbledore had said, his brother had a great fondness for the farm animals.

"Aberforth. You know about me, I'm told?" he asked in a gruff voice. As he nodded, Harry was reminded more of Moody than Dumbledore.

"Good, saves us some time. We don't have a lot of it. You really ought not to show up here unannounced boy. You're asking for a whole heap of trouble. Death Eaters have been watching this village for weeks now. They'll be showing up here any minute. You mark my words"

"Watching, why?" Harry asked, intrigued. This couldn't be anything good. Nothing that involved Death Eaters was. But what was Voldemort's motivation for having them watch Hogsmeade? Were they going to try and take the school? Was this an information-gathering mission? Hagrid had once said that Voldemort's eventual plan was to get the school, but he hadn't attempted it when Dumbledore was alive. With the great wizard gone was he now ready to make this move?

"Information," Aberforth replied in an offhand way confirming, at least partly, Harry's guess. "It's not important now. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to go to the school. There are a few things that I need to . . . er . . . research," Harry told him. Yet again he was being faced with having to hide things and invent cover stories. He would be very glad when this whole task was completed so he wouldn't have to be evasive about everything.

Aberforth considered him for a minute. Then he pulled out a mirror. It looked exactly like the one Harry used to talk to Ginny. He watched in amazement as Aberforth called Professor McGonagall. He knew that the Order members were able to communicate through other means than fires, as Dumbledore had told him the night Sirius died. This wasn't the way that Harry would have thought though. Had it perhaps been James and Sirius that had devised this medium for the members?

"Potter's here," Aberforth told McGonagall. "He wants to come up to the school. Says he has some research to do."

Harry couldn't hear what she said, but she must have agreed because next moment Aberforth said "right." Stowing the mirror back in the pocket of his robes, he grabbed an empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. Pointing his wand at it he said "portus." The bottle glowed blue for a minute and then returned to normal.

"Take this, quick," Aberforth motioned to the bottle, just as they heard several loud CRACKS. People were Apparating into Hogsmeade. Harry didn't need more than one guess to figure out who it was. He touched the bottle and was instantly transported away from The Hog's Head.

He landed in the empty entrance hall. It was mid-morning and all of the students were in class. Stumbling slightly, it took Harry a moment to get his bearings. Then he dashed out the doors to the castle. Hogsmeade was just visible below. He could see small flashes of light, probably spells, which were coming from the street. It had been Death Eaters that had appeared, and now there was a duel going on. If this was a common experience it explained why the village looked completely deserted.

Hoping that there weren't any serious ramifications from his appearance, Harry returned to the castle and made his way up to the headmistress's office. McGonagall met him at the gargoyle.

"Hello Potter. Back again are you?" she smiled weakly. "How's your task coming along?"

"Fine Professor. I just wanted to come back and do some more research," Harry explained before realizing she already knew that.

"What happened to Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger?"

"They're working on something else right now."

"I see. Well, I told them, and I'll tell you too Potter that you three are always welcome at the school. If I can be of any assistance . . . "

"Thank you Professor," Harry responded. Then thinking that there might actually be something McGonagall could help him with he asked, "might I have another word with Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, of course," McGonagall said. Without question she supplied the password to the gargoyle ("Pumpkin Juice"), which sprang aside. Then she turned back to Harry. She wore a look of sadness on her face. She replaced it with another weak smile. "Take your time, I have a class to teach." She started to walk away.

"Teach?" Harry asked, bewildered. Since when did the headmistress teach?

"Yes Potter, teach. We've been experiencing a shortage of applicants for teaching posts at this school. It is understandable given what happened here in June," She conceded with a slight nod of her head.

"Oh," was all Harry could say. "Well, thank you again Professor." He made his way up to the office for the third time since Dumbledore's death.

Harry had been wondering about what Hermione had said the night before. Given his reaction, or lack thereof, when attempting to destroy it, he didn't think that the wand was a Horcrux. The wand hadn't even caused his scar to twinge. But, Harry thought as he stood on the spiral staircase, if there was some sort of protective spell placed by Ravenclaw on her wand maybe that's what had stopped his reaction too. Come to think of it, his scar had already been hurting because of the destruction of the cup. Was it possible he just hadn't noticed the renewed pain when he tried to break the wand? He would have to ask the portrait.

"Hello Professor Dumbledore," Harry said upon entering the office.

Dumbledore had been expecting him. He smiled and said, "to what do I owe the pleasure Harry?"

"I wanted to run something by you," Harry started immediately. He rapidly recounted what had happened when he destroyed the locket again and how he had felt nearly the same thing with the cup. He told Dumbledore how Ron and Hermione had found the wand, and his suspicions that the wand wasn't really a Horcrux.

"Ingenious," Dumbledore said quietly when Harry finished. "Simply ingenious,"

"What's that sir?" Harry asked.

"Hiding it in plain sight," Dumbledore responded, a small smile on his face. "If anyone were to realize it wasn't just a wand, which they could easily do in such a public setting . . . I admit it is a risk I did not think Voldemort would take. Of course it makes it much easier for you. You have only the snake and the piece within now, correct?"

"We've found the locket and the cup, so all that would be left, if the wand is a Horcrux, is the snake," Harry confirmed.

"Well done. That was much quicker than I would have thought," Dumbledore said. "And excellent work with the Chizpurfles I must say."

Harry had thus far not mentioned what happened with the Muggles at Glastonbury Tor. It came spilling out though when Dumbledore had said he was doing a good job. How could he really have been when he had single-handedly caused the death of a dozen innocent people?

"That is grave indeed." The portrait Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly. "You could not have known that would happen. Even the most astute person cannot always see all ends."

"But I . . . it's my fault," Harry replied.

"No Harry, Voldemort is to blame here," Dumbledore echoed Ginny's words. Harry said nothing.

"That's what Ginny said," he spoke finally. "I told her about everything that night," he paused for a minute, waiting for the reaction from the portrait. How would this news go over, given that Dumbledore asked Harry not to tell anyone else?

"A wise decision on the whole. I'm very glad to hear you've not shut everyone out as you are so apt to do," was the response. "Remember it is wisest to keep those you love close Harry."

Harry contemplated this for a minute. He knew this worked in destroying Horcruxes. The locket was a perfect example. It wasn't until he thought of Ginny, Ron and Hermione that he had been able to break the protective spell. Harry decided now was the time to breach the topic he had been most anxious to discuss with Dumbledore.

"How come my scar didn't hurt when I tried to destroy the wand? It always did the other times." Harry still wasn't wholly convinced that they had the last Horcrux.

"I'm sure it did Harry, you said yourself that it was already aching from the destruction of the cup. You likely didn't notice it."

"OK, so any ideas how to destroy the wand then?" Harry asked. It made sense and he had thought that himself. They would just have to find out if it really was a Horcrux through attempts at destroying it. He hoped the wand was the last Horcrux, because if it wasn't they were back at square one again. And, he thought, they were running out of options as to where, or what, the object could be.

"I feel confident in guessing that Lord Voldemort would have cursed each object differently. So far you have destroyed the locket with a spell, and the cup with a beast. You have not yet tried potions. I would start there if I were you," Dumbledore replied succinctly.

"Ginny suggested that for the cup," Harry said. He smiled as he added, "she wanted to use Amortentia."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Amusing to think of, even though it wouldn't work. It is the true feeling of love that you have within you that allowed you to destroy that locket. The Amortentia potion does not create love, I trust you know that."

"Of course," Harry replied. "That's why we didn't try it." He wasn't grinning anymore. He had rather hoped he wouldn't have to resort to potion making. He had never been very good at it, which was hardly surprising given the lamentable potions master he had for the first five years. "Is there anything else that might work?'

"Many advanced spells, but those take a great amount of time to learn, and you are trying to finish this task as soon as possible, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well then, I might suggest that you turn to Professor Snape Harry. As you well know he –"

"No," Harry said flatly. "I'll figure it out on my own. Thank you Professor." He turned and left the office.

There was nothing further that the portrait of Dumbledore could tell him, he was sure of that now. And the last thing he wanted to do was listen to Dumbledore's foolish advice to turn to Snape.

Harry supposed, now he was here, he could ask Professor Slughorn to help him brew up a potion. But he wasn't sure if he would be able to convince the potions master to help him brew a poisonous potion without revealing the fact that he knew about the Horcruxes. If he did reveal this bit of information, how would Slughorn react? He had certainly done his part to keep that memory from Dumbledore and Harry. It was too much of an unknown to take the chance.

Harry felt like things were going in a gigantic circle. He was now almost positive the wand was a Horcrux, but that didn't do him a lot of good right now. Ron and Hermione had taken it with them when they went back to Durmstrang. He could write them and ask them to bring it, or send it to him; however that didn't seem the smartest thing to put down on paper. He didn't know where Durmstrang was, so he couldn't Apparate there. No, he was back to the odious task of research. At least he had a clearer aim this time. He was looking for potions that would aid in destroying the Horcrux.

Harry, with McGonagall's permission, was going to be staying at the school. They had spent so much time in the library at Grimmauld Place that he had no doubt that there was nothing there that would help him. Given the vast size of the Hogwarts library, Harry was going to be there for at least a few days.

Madam Pince sneered at Harry when he first entered the library.

"What are you doing here boy? You didn't return to school from what I hear."

"I have a few things that I need to look for. Professor McGonagall said it was OK," Harry told the librarian. She sneered a little more, but didn't prevent Harry entering, or taking down her precious books and scanning them for useful potions.

It took less than three hours for word to spread that Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts. Student after student entered the library to come and have a look at him. Some just milled about, whispering, to the annoyance of both Harry and Madam Pince. She would shoo these unwelcome intruders out. It was the only time that Harry could recall feeling grateful to her.

It wasn't completely bad for people to know he was back though. Neville and Luna, along with several other Gryffindors came to greet Harry.

"Moste Potente Potions?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice, looking at the cover of the book Harry had just closed. "I wouldn't read that if I were you. The last person that did caught a nasty case of spattergroit."

"I'll bear that in mind, thanks Luna," Harry responded, wearing a huge smile. This was some crude, medieval medical condition, which caused you to look like you had freckles. At least that's what Harry remembered from the healer who had chased Ron through St. Mungo's two years before claiming he was inflicted with the disease.

"You know if you're looking up potions you should really start with our Advanced Potions text. It's got a lot of interesting and useful spells," said Ernie MacMillan, who had joined Neville and Luna. "How are you Harry?"

"Fine," Harry replied, trying to sound casual, though he was getting very annoyed. The only copy of Advanced Potions he had was the Half-Blood Prince's copy, which was, presumably, still up in the room of requirement. He was not going to use that book if there was even the smallest chance of destroying the wand another way. He was not going to turn to Snape for help, even in written form.

"Why are you here anyway?" Neville asked, sitting down opposite Harry.

"Just doing some research you know . . . for the war," Harry answered vaguely. He seemed to be on a roll with revealing things to people. What cover story would he have to invent to get out of this one if Neville asked to know more? Thankfully the bell to signal the start of afternoon lessons rang just then rescuing Harry from having to dig himself out of a potential hole.

"Well, see you Harry." Neville and Luna departed leaving Harry alone again. He was thoroughly over researched from the summer and was finding it hard to concentrate. What was happening down in the village? Were they able to fend off those intruders? Were the Death eaters perhaps wending their way up to the castle right now?

Harry knew he probably wouldn't be sitting peacefully in the library if the school were about to be attacked yet this thought brought Harry back to reality. They were so close to destroying that last Horcrux. He just needed to find a potion that would do it. Right now he wasn't thinking about the snake or the battle with Voldemort. All that was on his mind was seeing finality to this long, drawn out conflict.

Ron and Hermione were having about as much luck as Harry in finding a way to destroy Ravenclaw's wand. Hermione was now positive it hadn't been cursed, but was flummoxed as to its destruction.

"I just don't get it. We've tried a million things on it and nothing even causes a splinter to come off it. I think there's one hell of a protective spell on it."

"You haven't tried potions yet have you?" Harry asked. He, Ron and Hermione had chanced a quick Floo connection to talk to each other. They hadn't spoken in nearly three weeks and this lack of communication was worrying the three friends.

Harry had finally taken a chance and sent Hedwig off with a note telling them, not in those words, to floo him in the Gryffindor common room.

He hoped Ron or Hermione would pick up the hint. He also wondered, as he watched Hedwig fly away, whether he had given her enough time to reach Ron and Hermione. He had requested the meeting for three days later.

Fate was favoring them again for Hermione's face appeared in the fire promptly at one a.m. as Harry had indicated in his note.

"Any luck?" she asked as a way of greeting.

"Nope, you?"

"No." Hermione proceeded to explain their frustration over finding nothing either. It was then that Harry had interjected asking if she had looked for potions.

"That's brilliant," Hermione cried then she started choking. She had swallowed a lot of ashes. "Is that what you've been researching then?"

"Yeah, I haven't found anything that would work so far though," Harry answered.

Hermione was thinking really hard. Harry waited. Maybe she had some fantastic insight that would get them moving forward.

"I know you aren't going to like this Harry, but I think you should get your old potions book back. There were a lot of useful spells in there, official and unofficial."

Harry appreciated that it must have taken a lot for Hermione to suggest this given she detested the book as much as Harry did. Nonetheless, it meant turning to Snape, the foul, loathsome, murdering traitor, something that he had been avoiding at all costs.

"At least consider it. I'm starting to think it might be our best chance," Hermione stated. Harry nodded. Loathe though he was to turn to that awful book, he would rather swallow his anger and use it than give up and allow Voldemort free reign.

He snuck out of the common room right after talking with Hermione and crept towards the room of requirement. Once there he walked quickly three times past the tutu wearing trolls thinking "I need to retrieve my potions book."

The door appeared suddenly and Harry raced in. Everything looked as it had when he had deposited the book here in May. Remembering where he hid it, Harry hurried to that aisle. He found the cabinet and pulled open the door, wondering if the book would still be there. Maybe Snape had come and retrieved it. But it was still sitting exactly where Harry had left it..

Feeling ill at having his hands on something that had once belonged to scum like Snape, Harry returned to the common room. It took a while for him to open the book. When he did the first page that he landed on was the one he had folded down, the one with the Sectumsempra spell on it.

Harry recalled Malfoy's bloody form lying on that bathroom floor. Despite Draco's part in Dumbledore's death, and the countless other horrible things he had done, Harry still regretted using that spell on him. He hated Snape for even inventing it in the first place. Once this thing with Voldemort was over, Snape was next. If he happened to come across the coward before then, so be it.

He absent-mindedly flipped through the book, stopping every now and again on a spell or potion that looked promising. Harry laughed out loud when he saw the Amortentia potion. Ginny's joke about using it to destroy the Horcrux seemed particularly funny right now.

There was the cheerfulness potion Harry had made in the hopes of getting that memory out of Slughorn. The Felix Felicis, maybe he should have started brewing some of that four months ago. They were going to need luck before the end that was left in little doubt. The draught of living death? No that wouldn't work here. Polyjuice potion, maybe useful, not to rid an object of a piece of soul though. Veritaserum, unless the wand could be forced into telling the truth it would be a waste of potion ingredients.

Harry carelessly flipped through the pages of the book. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep. His mind was so unfocused that he didn't notice he hat reached the very last page in the book. He gazed down at it for several minutes without digesting a single word.

There was a handwritten potion. The writing was neat and tiny. It reminded Harry very much of Hermione's. It didn't look like the other writing in the book. How had he not noticed this before? The potion was titled 'Extracting Elixir.' Harry read the little blurb that was below, "liquid Dementors, without the nasty side effect of draining everyone's powers."

This was the best hope they had right now. The only problem was it took two weeks to make and there were a few obscure ingredients that he didn't have with him. And of course it looked complex. Hermione was definitely going to have to brew it.

It was back to Grimmauld Place now. Once Hedwig was back Harry would send her to Ron and Hermione and have them return.

Harry made a quick stop at Slughorn's office to ask if the potions master had some of the more obscure ingredients he would need.

"Harry m'boy, how are you?" Slughorn greeted him jovially.

"Great Professor," Harry replied, "listen I don't have a lot of time. I was hoping I could ask you if you have –" he consulted the potion and named off the few ingredients he didn't have.

"Odd combination Harry, very odd. Are you experimenting with a new potion?" Slughorn asked, one eyebrow raised, a look of curiosity on his face. Then he went to retrieve the items.

"Something like that," Harry said, watching the Professor's massive backside disappear into his own private stores.

"There you go Harry. Always said you took after your mother when it came to potions." Slughorn gave Harry a huge smile and then walked him to the door. "If you need anything else Harry, just let me know."

"I will, thank you Professor," Harry replied. He hurried away clutching the ingredients. He had to get home and start this. Time was of the essence he knew that now. It was more crucial to get this Horcrux destroyed than ever. Why it was suddenly so urgent again Harry didn't know.

"Keep your fingers crossed," Harry told Ron and Hermione. They were standing over a simmering cauldron that was issuing copious amounts of grey steam. They stood well away from the cauldron and Harry levitated Ravenclaw's wand so it was hovering over the potion, then he let it fall and it gave a great splash, sloshing liquid over the sides.

It was slight, but that unpleasant sensation in his scar was back. Harry concentrated very hard on Ginny, hoping it would stop things from getting worse. Rather than the pain in his scar getting less or more intense, he started to get a very bad feeling. He tried to push it aside but it was getting worse. Those two horrible dreams came back to Harry's mind, the one with the locket and the one where Ginny was imprisoned in that dungeon. He was hearing Ginny crying, pleading with him not to let Voldemort take her.

It was all in his mind, Harry told himself. She was safe at home now. There were members of the Order there. If anything happened they would alert Harry, Ron and Hermione. These bad feelings were just a side effect of the potion. Whoever had invented it had called it liquid Dementor after all. When the Chizpurfle had eaten away at the magic he had felt like his head was being drilled into. Therefore, it was completely natural that he would be feeling the effects of this potion too.

After several minutes the now familiar results of the Horcrux destruction were evident. There was no shriek this time, but the room did shake, and it filled with that thick green smoke. The last inanimate Horcrux was destroyed. Harry didn't feel any better though. In fact, his unease was increasing.

"That's it?" Hermione asked in an amazed voice. "That's the last Horcrux?"

"No, there's still the snake," Harry replied distracted. He had just felt his mirror heat up.

As Ron and Hermione congratulated each other on their task, Harry walked away, into a corner of the room.

"Hi Ginny," he said, starting to feel a little better before even seeing her face. At least she was still OK. "We've got great news. The last one's –" Harry caught sight of her face for the first time. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly, feeling that sense of unease more strongly than ever.

Ginny was looking absolutely horror-stricken.

"He's here," she said in a shaky voice. She didn't need to elaborate. The look in her eyes said it all. Voldemort was at the Burrow.

"Oh no," Harry said quietly, but loud enough for Ron and Hermione to hear.

"What's happened?" they both asked, rushing over to him. Harry didn't hear what they said. All he could think of right now was the fact that he needed to get to the Burrow. He knew that it was a trap set up to lure him there. But he didn't care. This was exactly the sort of thing that he had feared would happen if he stayed involved with Ginny. He had to get her out of it somehow, before horrible things happened.

"I'll be right there," Harry told Ginny, as he was already walking quickly out of the room. Ron and Hermione were peering over his shoulder.

"Don't do it Harry. Just stay there. It's a tr –" The mirror was yanked out of Ginny's hands and the red of her hair was replaced by the red of Voldemort's eyes. He was grinning. It was a horrifying sight. Then the connection was broken.

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. The former looked like he had been placed under the full body bind curse. Hermione had screamed at some point, now she was just looking horrified. They didn't look like they were going to move anytime soon, and there was no time to waste.

Harry ran full pelt out of the house. The door had barely slammed when he summoned enough concentration to focus on the Burrow and he Disapparated.

One would never have guessed it was dark from the way the Burrow's garden was lit. The yard was filled with all sorts of people. Order members and Death Eaters were scattered everywhere, spells were flying in every direction, lighting up the sky. The air was filled with shouts of more spells, and screams of pain as several people were hit with what was unmistakably the Cruciatus Curse. But Harry cared for none of this. There was only one thing that he was concerned about, and that was getting to Ginny.

He ran through the groups of dueling wizards, knocking more than a few over and ducking spells. He didn't care what they were doing, and most didn't seem to notice him which was all the better. He didn't have the time to stop and duel with someone else.

Harry's scar had been aching ever since Voldemort had appeared in the mirror. Now it burst into agonizing life. Harry clamped one hand over it as he ran for the house. He was a dozen feet away when the door opened and Voldemort stepped casually out, Ginny in front of him, much like a gunman holding a hostage. She was struggling, trying to free herself.

"My, my, Harry, I'd rather had thought that you would have been here a lot sooner," Voldemort smiled that same nasty grin. His scarlet eyes flashed, he was extremely pleased with this whole situation. Harry didn't need to see him to know that.

"Let her go," he said furiously although he knew that the Dark Lord was not going to do any such thing without a fight. "I'm here now. Leave her alone." He was looking at Ginny who, though she wasn't speaking, was pleading with him. He knew exactly what she was trying to tell him. He had heard those words months ago. She was begging him not to let Voldemort take her.

Voldemort laughed. It was a laugh to chill even the warmest night.

"I don't think so Harry. I've been waiting too long for this." He looked at Ginny again, and ran one of his long spider-like fingers down her cheek. She shuddered, and increased her vain attempts to free herself from his grip. "I think this will be even more enjoyable than I thought."

"No," Harry shouted, feeling an explosive rage fill him. He ran at the pair of them. He didn't care what he had to do, but there was no way that he was going to let Voldemort win this time. As long as he was still breathing he would do everything he could to get Ginny out of this situation.

Harry was close enough to touch the pair of them now, and all Voldemort did was continue to grin that evil grin. What Harry wanted to do was to break his neck. He reached out, to do just that, or to grab Ginny, but met an invisible barrier. This was all too familiar.

Harry scrambled frantically to get to Ginny. It was something that he had done many, many times before, in that dream. Harry and Ginny were standing the same distance apart now. He felt as if he had stepped right into that nightmare. She wasn't shouting in words, but if at all possible, with just a look. Harry tried to convey to her that he wasn't going to let Voldemort take her. As he struggled against that barrier though he wasn't sure how he could prevent it.

Voldemort let out another of his mirthless laughs, and spoke the words that had been haunting Harry since the beginning of July. "You won't win Harry." He smiled once more, tightened his grip on Ginny and Disapparated.


	23. 23 Voldemort's Little Game

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: VOLDEMORT'S LITTLE GAME

"NO!" Harry screamed, falling forward onto his hands and knees. The barrier he had been fighting against vanished when Voldemort disappeared with Ginny. He stretched out his hand to where Ginny had been just before. Nothing was there but thin air. It had been a hopeless attempt to undo what had just happened.

Harry was unable to prevent the thing he most wanted to avoid. He had told Ginny time and time again at the beginning of the summer that they shouldn't be together. If he had just stuck to his own decision she wouldn't be in the situation that she was in now. What was going to happen? He hadn't been able to keep her safe when he was standing a foot away!

"DAMN IT!" Harry shouted again, to no one in particular. He had to do something. He needed to find Ginny; he was going to find her, even if it meant scouring the whole country. Harry looked around for the first time, as though looking for a place to start in this hopeless search.

The Death Eaters that had been present disappeared just after Voldemort. The dozen Order members seemed a little worse for wear, but not mortally injured. Maybe something had been mentioned in passing, some clue, during the fight that would tell Harry where Voldemort had taken Ginny. He ran around to each in turn asking them if anyone had said anything. The reply was always the same. No one had said anything.

"COME ON, THEY HAD TO HAVE SAID SOMETHING," Harry yelled at everyone in the yard, who were all now watching him, as he stood in the middle of their circle.

"They didn't Harry," Lupin said. "Come inside. We need to regroup, and work out some sort of plan. We'll get her back."

"NOT BY SITTING AROUND DISCUSSING IT," Harry roared. He struggled out of the grip that Lupin had on his arm.

They didn't have time to sit around talking tactics. They needed to start looking for Ginny. The Riddle house! Voldemort had a strange affinity for that house. It seemed just the sort of place she would be taken

"Never mind, I'll go myself," Harry said angrily when no one made any move.

"You're not going anywhere," Fred said, repeating the grip that Lupin had on Harry, but much tighter. "You got her into this mess, you're going to get her out of it, but not until we've planned this thing properly. You're not going to go blundering this up and get her murdered like you did Sirius!" There wasn't even the faintest trace of a joke in his expression now. The look he was giving Harry was of fury. That look, coupled with the mention of Sirius was enough to calm Harry down to consent to come into the house, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting, absolutely stunned. Mrs. Weasley looked up. Harry's first inclination was to start yelling at her. Hadn't she swore to him that if there was even the tiniest whisper about Voldemort making a move on the Burrow that they would come straight back to headquarters? But there was such a desperate look in her eyes that he didn't do it.

"Where's Ginny?' she asked.

"Gone, Molly. Voldemort – he took her," Lupin said, choking on his own words.

"Did you two hear anything – anything at all about where he might have taken her?" Harry asked the two Weasleys. Quite apart from his own grief, anger, sorrow and guilt, he now felt some of Mrs. Weasley's too. And he felt more than ever that they needed to act now, not stand around chitchatting.

"No," Mr. Weasley spoke up. There was no emotion in his voice whatsoever. He sounded a lot like Barty Crouch Jr. when he had been force fed Veritaserum. "We were sitting down to dinner when we heard the stealth sensors go off. The Order members were battling with Death Eaters in a matter of seconds. They told us to stay inside, which we did. But it was pointless. You-Know-Who waltzed right in, as though there was nothing guarding this place. Naturally we tried to hide Ginny behind us, but he just waved his wand and we were forced out of the way. Then he started talking to her. 'Ginevra, how long I've wanted to meet you. Ever since I learned that you were the one that opened the Chamber for me five years ago," he spoke only to her 'What do you want?' she asked him. He just smiled at her and said 'I want you to get Harry here for me, of course.' 'I will not,' she told him. She probably would have refused until he killed her, had he not threatened Molly and myself. It was then that she reluctantly pulled out that mirror."

Everyone in the room was staring at Harry. He shifted guiltily. Yes, this was all his fault he knew that, but blame and guilt were of no use here. They needed to rescue Ginny. They needed to make sure she returned safe.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Harry said to the room at large. He didn't know whom he was talking to, her parents, her brothers, the other Order members, or to Ginny herself. "I will find her," he said and made to leave again. There was nothing that they could do from here. They were again wasting valuable time.

"Harry you can't go, not like this," Lupin replied. "We need information, intelligence. You don't even know where he's taken her."

"I have a few ideas," Harry stated still walking. He was going to the Riddle house. Ginny might be there. He would do whatever it took to get her back, anything at all. He didn't care about costs, all he wanted was to get her out of the situation he had put her in.

"You're walking into a trap. It won't do you any good, and it won't do Ginny any good. Harry, I know this is hard for you to accept but there is nothing that you can do right now," Lupin advised.

"Snape," Harry said suddenly and stopped walking. He turned to face Lupin. "He's on our side, so you keep saying. He'd know. He's right in Voldemort's inner circle."

"We can't," Lupin replied, shifting a little. "Snape hasn't been in contact with us for over two months. Not since after that article came out."

"Damn it," Harry fumed again. He was running out of options. Like hell was he going to sit here and wait for who knew how long until the Order developed some sort of action plan. He couldn't just sit here while Ginny was in the clutches of the Dark Lord who was doing god knows what to her!

"Harry you can't go," Lupin said again, grabbing his arm for the second time that night.

"Let go of me," Harry tried to wrench his arm from Lupin's again, but wasn't as successful as before. He continued to struggle. He was going to get out of here and start looking. But next thing he knew everything had gone black.

When he woke up, it took a moment for everything to sink in, and for Harry to realize he was back at Grimmauld Place. He sat up and immediately felt dizzy. There was also a throbbing pain on the back of his head probably from where he had hit the ground after being stunned. He ignored that and jumped up.

Why were they back here? How much time had elapsed? Had they heard anything from or about Voldemort's whereabouts, or where he had taken Ginny?

"Good, you're awake. I was worried Moody might have overdone it with that Stunner," Hermione said in a frantic voice.

"Why are we back here? What's going on?" Harry asked quickly.

"We all came back for safety's sake. We don't want anyone else in danger," Lupin said. "Least of all you Harry. You were being nonsensical."

"Voldemort's got Ginny!" Harry shouted at the room, which he now noticed was full of people. Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Bill, Fred, George, and others that Harry didn't take the time to notice. "You don't just expect me to sit here when –" He still had his mirror and just then felt it heat up. Dreading what he might see, Harry pulled it out.

Hopes of seeing Ginny on the other side saying she had somehow managed to escape, or that it was just another of his nightmares were dashed quickly. It was Voldemort.

"Ah Harry, I've been trying to reach you for hours now."

"What do you want?" Harry asked furiously.

"How rude Harry. I was extending you a courtesy, letting you know that your precious Ginevra is still doing well." Voldemort's face was gone from the mirror. In its place was the same dungeon that Harry had dreamt about not so long ago. Ginny was lying there. She looked relatively unscathed, but when the mirror turned to her and she looked at it, Harry saw she was wearing that same scared expression.

"You know, I really do have to admire your taste Harry, she is quite pretty," Voldemort said in the same calm and sinisterly saccharine voice that made Harry's blood turn to ice. He ran a finger down Ginny's cheek again, as he had done back at the Burrow.

"Don't touch me," Ginny shouted, and spit on Voldemort's hand.

"Oh Ginny, no," Harry moaned quietly. He saw Voldemort's face disappear from the mirror and then a wand tip appeared in its bottom left hand corner. Not wanting to see what was going to happen, but powerless to stop it, Harry heard Voldemort say 'Crucio.'

As he had seen and experienced so many times in his life, Harry saw Ginny writhing on the floor, in agony. He could hear her pleading with Voldemort to stop. He was silently begging for it to end too. This was the worst thing that he had ever witnessed. The only thing he ever wanted for Ginny was to love her, and for her to be safe, yet she wasn't safe at all, and was probably going to die there in that dungeon, another victim of Voldemort, just because of her relationship with him.

The spell was lifted rather quickly.

"Well now that was fun wasn't it?" Voldemort's face was back in the mirror wearing a rather pleased and triumphant look. "But of course we're just getting started. Until later Harry." With the promise of another round, the mirror went blank.

"NO," Harry shouted so loud that the silence was rent with the all-too-familiar voice of Mrs. Black. He didn't listen to her though. Now he was awake, and quite aware of what Ginny was going through, Harry was freshly determined to get out there and find Ginny.

As though waiting for him to do just such a thing, Ron, Lupin, Moody and Kingsley blocked the door.

"Why are you keeping me from doing this?" Harry fired at them. He was quite ready to curse someone and would have, if they hadn't taken his wand away. "Are you in league with Voldemort or something? Is this your idea of a joke? Letting me watch while he tortures her?"

"Torture?" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Oh dear God." She had her hands wrapped around a cup of tea, which fell to the floor and smashed. Then she ran over to Harry. "You have to save her Harry, you have to," she cried, grabbing the front of his shirt and shaking him, while Fred and George tried to pull her back.

"That's what I'm trying to do," Harry burst out furiously, pulling free from her grasp.

"Harry, it's a game. He's trying to lure you out unprepared," Lupin explained in a calm voice, still blocking every attempt Harry was making to push past him. "If you go running off like this all you are going to succeed in doing is getting yourself killed along with Ginny. We need to find out where he is and what type of offense they have before we go charging off."

"But –" Harry started to protest again.

"You want to save Ginny right?" Lupin asked, still in that calm, but now firm voice. Harry nodded. "Then please listen to us Harry, we're working as hard and fast as we can When we find her –"

"It'll be too late," Harry said, in a furious, yet dejected way.

"No, it won't."

He wanted to believe Lupin, he really did, but Harry knew there was too much truth in Lupin's words. Voldemort had taken Ginny so that he could have a little fun; this was Voldemort's little game. He was going to torture her to death, or just enough through the mirror to drive her or Harry mad.

When everyone was assured that Harry wasn't going to take off on a kamikaze mission to find Ginny they all decided to try and get some sleep. When the news came of where she was they were going to need to be alert. Harry wouldn't hear of it though. He oscillated between lying on the couch, his hand pressed convulsively over the mirror, and pacing up and down the room.

"You really should try and get some rest," Hermione said without much conviction twelve hours after Ginny was taken, and six hours after Voldemort's message. "I'm sure we're bound to hear something soon. You'll want to be fully alert when we go."

"I'm fine," Harry replied. He had stopped pacing just long enough to answer Hermione's question.

He had given up trying to contact Ginny or Voldemort in the other mirror. It seemed that the Dark Lord had put some sort of blocking spell in place, so that communication could only be initiated from Ginny's mirror. Voldemort wanted to be in total control, and so far he was, Harry thought bitterly ten hours later. It had been twenty-two hours since Ginny had been taken. Why had there only been one message? Was it possible Ginny was . . .?

The sun had just sunk behind the houses in the square that held Grimmauld Place when Harry felt the mirror heat up for the second time. Again fearing what he was going to see, but needing news of Ginny, he hastily removed it from his pocket.

He was certain that he was going to see Voldemort, but he didn't. It was Ginny, lying there on that dungeon floor. She looked a little worse for wear, but still relatively unharmed. Her hair was messy, her face bruised, she was panting, and looked exhausted.

"You mother fu –" Harry was halfway through cursing Voldemort when a sudden movement from Ginny made him shut up.

'HARRY DON'T LET HIM PLAY WITH YOU! JUST LEAVE ME AND GO AFTER THE ONE WITHIN! LEAVE - She was hit with another Cruciatus curse and her shouts of warning turned into those of pain. Then the mirror went blank again.

Harry shook the mirror in frustration. Twenty-four hours! Twenty-four hours he had been forced to sit here and do nothing. He didn't know how much more of this that he could take. They, Voldemort and the Order, were going to keep him locked up here until he went mad.

"I've got to do something. I can't just sit here and let him do this to her," Harry yelled at Ron and Hermione. He raced out of the drawing room. They pelted after him, and reached him just as he started to climb the stairs. Harry was so determined that it took both of them to tackle him to the ground to get him to stop moving.

"I know how you feel Harry," Ron said, pinning him to the stairs, and having to shout over the portrait again.

"No you don't. You've never had to watch a friend die; your parents were always there for you. You weren't there when Dumbledore was murdered. You're not the one that's had to sit there and watch as the person you love most in the world is being tortured because – because Voldemort thinks it's funny. You don't have to hear her screaming at you just to – to leave her – to let her die." Harry choked out these last few words, trying to fight back the well of emotions that were threatening to burst through, but uttering these words made Harry realize just what Ginny had said, what she was willing to do for him. She was really willing to let Voldemort kill her rather than chance Harry suffering the same fate.

This was never a choice that Ginny should have had to make. If only he, Harry, had been able to keep to his resolve to stay away from her. "Oh God Gin, I'm so sorry," he said, tears streaming down his face. Ron and Hermione had backed away, allowing Harry to sit up, and bury his face in his hands.

It was always those closest to him that Voldemort went after. Harry knew that. He had known that ever since Sirius had died, if not before. He had told Ginny they needed to stop seeing each other for that very reason. He knew Voldemort was going to use her to get to him. He was going to torture Ginny until either she or Harry broke. Why had he not listened to Dumbledore and absolutely demanded that the Weasleys stay at Grimmauld Place? What did it matter what her parents thought. She wouldn't be facing death or insanity right now.

"I should have stayed away," Harry said more to himself than to Ron or Hermione.

"Harry, this is Voldemort. You know that he would have got to her another way, even if you two weren't together," Hermione said, putting her arms around him in an attempt to console him. "You can't blame yourself. Just try and think about where she might be. That's what's going to be useful to us right now. Once we can find out where she is, we can go and get her."

"How can it not be my fault?" Harry asked. "This is Voldemort's idea of a game. He uses those we're close to."

Neither Ron nor Hermione had an answer to this.

Harry took Hermione's advice and thought long and hard over every single detail that he had seen in his dream and the two brief glances he had of that dungeon. There was nothing unique about it, there never really was with dungeons. Even if there had been, they wouldn't have been much better off, unless it was a famous dungeon that one of the Order members knew about. All he knew for certain was that it was not a dungeon he had ever seen at Hogwarts, so that ruled one place out of several hundred out. They briefly wondered whether it might have been Malfoy manor, but discounted that as well when thinking of Lucius and Draco's failings of late.

The mirror remained silent for the whole of the next day. Harry, having exhausted his limited resources about that dungeon, sank onto the couch, the mirror held in his lap. He wanted to be ready for the next time that Voldemort contacted him. Maybe something would click, or Voldemort would slip up somehow and reveal a clue as to where he had taken Ginny. But as the hours ticked by and the mirror remained just a mirror, Harry began to get cagey, and very angry.

The Weasleys had said they would come straight back to headquarters if there was even the slightest indication that Ginny was in danger. Yet here they were, all of the Weasleys except the one that needed protecting. No, she was the one that they were still looking for, with no luck. It had already been two days.

"I don't think they're doing a very good job," Harry fumed that evening. He was again pacing up and down the threadbare rug in the tapestry room. "We haven't heard a single thing. They're probably keeping things from us again."

"They wouldn't do that. It's just, with Snape not feeding them information anymore –" Hermione started.

"This was probably his plan right from the bloody beginning," Harry raged. "To get in good with the Order so that he could get all of this information to feed to Voldemort, then pull out when we really need him. He was the one that told Voldemort about Ginny and me anyway. I bet you someone here told him that we were back together."

"Harry, it was in the newspaper. Snape didn't need to tell Voldemort anything." Hermione reminded him.

"And you two," Harry rounded on them. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, not having slept for more than two days, and was becoming completely nonsensical again. "You've been helping them all along. Keeping things from Ginny and I. Wanted to get her captured did you?"

"That's my sister you're talking about," Ron fired back at Harry. "How could you even think that I would want her anywhere near You-Know-Who? If this situation is anyone's fault it's yours. You should have stayed away from her if you knew that she would end up getting murdered."

Nerves already stretched to breaking point over this situation, Harry and Ron were about a nanosecond from attacking each other. Hermione intervened and stopped them though.

"That's enough!' she snapped. "We're all working as hard as we can here Harry, you know that. And you –" she turned to Ron, " – know better than anyone that Harry's always done what's best for Ginny, well excepting a few minor missteps at the start of the summer. You're both letting Voldemort do what he's best at. You're letting him divide you." Harry and Ron glared at each other for a minute and then stalked off, each still angry with the other for their accusations, but also realizing they didn't really believe them.

It was shortly thereafter that Harry sank back into his stupor and stared at the mirror. He was really starting to worry now. It had been over twenty-four hours since the last message. As he had been with Sirius, Harry was quite certain that Ginny was still alive, but what sort of agony she was in he didn't want to think.

As the hours progressed and there was still no news he switched from melancholy to anger quicker than the flicking on of a light. Half the time he was scared about what he would see the next time the mirror connection was established. Maybe Voldemort had grown bored of this little game and-. He was letting Harry stew because that was more fun. Every time this thought came into Harry's mind he would become enraged and start pacing around the room.

The Order was of no help. They would come in every few hours to tell Harry, Ron and Hermione that they had no news. That, Harry thought, was quite obvious. Tonks, who had come in to deliver this waste of breath information, had barely disappeared beyond the door when Harry felt the mirror heat up for the third time.

It had been two and a half days since Ginny was taken, and thirty-six hours since the last message. As with the second message, Voldemort didn't appear, but Ginny did.

Harry held his breath as he looked over her limp form. Was she even still alive? She looked battered and bruised, even more so than the last time. Her face was barely recognizable, it was covered in blood, some fresh, some congealed. Her eyes and lips were nearly swollen shut. She opened them just a fraction so that her chocolate brown eyes, now looking bleary and out of focus could see Harry.

"Harry . . . " she said in a barely audible voice. "So sorry . . . couldn't stop . . . " Her breathing was shallow. But Harry didn't have time to dwell on that, because the mirror stopped showing Ginny, and Harry was once again looking at that white, snake-like face with those pitiless red eyes, now alight with glee.

"What have you done to her?" Harry demanded of Voldemort.

"Oh, nothing that you haven't Harry," Voldemort was smiling again. He was far scarier looking when he did that. "I really do have to reiterate that she is such a sweet young thing, wouldn't you agree?" That sinister smile increased. The innuendo in his voice took Harry by surprise for just a second. Voldemort was griming from ear to ear. Realizing what he was insinuating, Harry felt a hatred such as he had never known, boiling inside him. He threw the mirror so hard it hit the wall opposite and shattered.

"THAT'S IT!" Harry yelled. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears. "I've had enough of this. I'm going to find her. Don't you two dare try to stop me!" He rushed out of the room before they could. He charged up the stairs, once again causing the curtains that hung over the foul-mouthed portrait to burst open. He reached his room kicked open his trunk, grabbed his Firebolt and raced back downstairs.

Ron and Hermione had just started climbing the stairs when he joined them, his broomstick in his hand.

"I'm going after her," he told them again almost daring them to try and stop him.

"And where exactly are you going to go Harry? We don't know where Voldemort's holding her," Hermione tried to interject some reason into him.

"I don't care. I'll search every building in Britain if I have to. It's better than sitting here and watching Voldemort –" he stopped. Just the thought of what that monster had done was making him want to either retch or explode.

But then quite unbidden he thought of the mirror again. He shouldn't have broken it. It might still come in handy. He ran quickly into the drawing room. Pointing his wand at the shards of glass he yelled 'Reparo." The mirror again looked good as new, but wouldn't be enchanted anymore.

Harry spun around and saw Ron and Hermione in the doorway. Mirror in hand he ran to Hermione and shoved it at her. "Fix it," he demanded.

Hermione was looking scared at his erratic behaviour but said in a small voice, 'no."

Harry took a few steps closer to her. "I'm not playing around here Hermione, fix this thing." He spoke in a very calm voice; it was taking all of his energy not to leap at her.

"No, Harry," she replied again, backing away a few paces, moving closer to Ron.

"This isn't a joke. I want you to fix this thing right now," Harry said, in a voice of dead calm.

Hermione whimpered and backed right up against Ron, but still said, "I'm not going to do that Harry. He's playing with you. Don't let him."

Harry drew out his wand. He held the mirror in one hand and his wand in the other. Glaring at Hermione he gave her one last chance. "Fix this thing now and I won't hurt you."

Two things happened so close together that they could have been simultaneous. Harry felt that same sense of pure hatred that he had felt once in Dumbledore's office, and Hermione let out a high-pitched scream.

Harry's scar was on fire. He barely registered that Hermione had backed right out of the room. He now knew exactly what was going on. Voldemort had dispensed with Occlumency and was pushing thoughts through their connection. It was him that had wanted Harry to get the mirror fixed. It was him that wanted to continue this game. Harry was ready.

"No, I'm not going to do it!" Harry said through clenched teeth. With every ounce of concentration that he possessed he pushed back against Voldemort's connection. For a while he thought his head might explode, but then the pain started to lessen. Finally Harry knew that Voldemort was gone completely. His scar was still aching, but livable.

"Hermione, I'm so, so, sorry," Harry called to her, having to take great gasps of breath between his words.

Ron and Hermione inched their way back into the room. Hermione's face was white as a ghost and she was holding onto Ron so tightly that it was highly probable that his whole body was going numb.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked in a shaky voice.

"Voldemort. He was inside my head like before. You know, through the connection." Harry stated. "When I realized it I just sort of pushed him out. I dunno how."

Hermione had chanced a glance at Harry and, when seeing he was back to normal, let go of Ron. "Y – you know, I t- think you just used Occlumency."

"Brilliant timing," Harry muttered. He grabbed his broom again, Ginny back on his mind. "See you," he said hastily. He exited the house mounted his brook and kicked off without even waiting for the door to close. He hadn't made it much farther than the tops of the houses though when he heard a whoosh of wind and Ron flew up beside him.

"You're not going without us," he said. Harry noticed Hermione clinging to Ron, not daring to look down. She did hate flying. "Ginny's my sister."

Now they were in the air Harry was at a loss for where to start. He supposed that they should start in Little Hangleton, at the Riddle house more specifically. He motioned for Ron and Hermione to follow him, which they did.

They had been flying at breakneck speed for about an hour when Harry saw something ahead of them. It was someone else on a broomstick, and they were flying to collide. He pulled out his wand. He would rather be prepared in case it wasn't someone friendly.

The moon peaked out behind a wispy cloud and shone on the approaching figure. It was someone with white blonde hair. At this distance Harry could make out the stature of this individual. It could only be one person – Draco Malfoy.

Harry tightened his grip on the handle of his wand. He would knock Malfoy out of the air if he had to. There was no way that he was going to get detained by this fool.

Thirty seconds later they were almost upon each other. Harry raised his wand and shouted "Expelliarmus." Malfoy deflected it.

"POTTER DON'T! I KNOW WHERE YOU CAN FIND HER!"


	24. 24 The Snake & The Spy

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE SNAKE AND THE SPY

Feeling conflicted about it, Harry, Ron and Hermione landed with Malfoy in a heavily treed area. Harry wondered whether this wasn't a part of the plan to waylay them from finding Ginny. It better not be, he thought. He was quite ready to jinx or curse anyone else that tried to stop him from finding her.

Malfoy was looking quite unlike his normal self. He was even paler than usual, looking almost green. He was also a little unsteady on his feet, and had to brace himself by leaning on a tree. He was surely going to be ill soon.

Harry allowed him a minute to get his bearings and then said, "so where's Ginny Malfoy?"

Draco hesitated for a minute causing Harry to advance upon him.

"You'd better not be messing with me!" He held his wand in Malfoy's face in a threatening manner.

"I'm not," Malfoy said, looking scared. "She's being held in the dungeon at Snape's house."

"SNAPE?" Harry thundered, causing more than a few birds to rise out of the trees in fright.

"Yes, Snape. He's been feeding information to the Dark Lord for months now. He was the one that brought him that article about you from the beginning of August. You know, the one where you were in Godric's Hollow," Malfoy explained.

Ron and Hermione had lit their wands and Harry could see them looking at him. He was absolutely apoplectic. Voldemort was one thing, Harry had expected trouble from him, but this was more than he thought he could bear. He had never hated Snape more.

"You're not completely innocent in this, I'm sure," Harry growled, turning his attention back to Malfoy. "What are you doing here anyway? And how did you know where to find us?"

"Your cousin. I've been talking to him." How did Malfoy know Dudley? And how exactly had the two met? They had all thought that Dudley was spending all of his time holed up in his room at headquarters. Apparently they had been wrong.

"Why did you need to talk to him anyway?" Hermione asked. Malfoy looked at her in a scathing manner before answering.

"That was my task. The Dark Lord was furious that I didn't murder Dumbledore. He only spared Snape and I because he wanted information on you Potter. He finally got what he was looking for from that photo of you in the Daily Prophet. You always were big on publicity," Malfoy sneered at this.

"Get on with it," Harry jabbed his wand at Malfoy again.

"He wanted to make sure we could get to her, the little blood traitor –"

Even when he was supposedly trying to help, Malfoy was an obnoxious little berk. Harry dispensed with his wand and grabbed Malfoy by the neck. They were now mere inches apart.

"Say that again and I will break your neck," He informed Draco through gritted teeth. "Get on with it, and without the commentary."

Draco straightened himself up indignantly.

"Honestly, I try to help and you act like this. Maybe I should just forget it." He reached for his broom, but Ron snatched it back, earning his own sneer from Malfoy.

"Finish your story. I want to get going," Harry demanded impatiently.

"Fine," Draco whined, still glaring at Ron. "I was set to watch the house, that hovel you call a home Weasley, and determine if there were any protective spells around it. I did that easily enough. Then I saw you show up there –" he motioned to Harry. " – Looking all upset and the little – she came out." He looked like he wanted to taunt Harry about that night, but restrained himself, with difficulty. "The Dark Lord was most pleased with this. He had me watch again to see if you came back after he planted that vision in your mind. He was furious when you didn't, and I probably would have been done for. If it hadn't been for my ingeniousness in following Lupin back that night to wherever it is that you were hiding out and chanced an encounter with your cousin. He told me you had another way of communicating with her, that two-way mirror. When I told You-Know-Who this he was more pleased than I had ever seen him. He promised me a great reward once you were disposed of. But I think he wanted to give it to me a little early," Malfoy grimaced at the thought. "It was her – he brought me down into that dungeon and said I could do whatever I wanted." Malfoy looked revolted at the thought. "As if I would want to."

Harry couldn't believe that they were still standing here listening to everything that they were. He was still half convinced that this was some sort of plan to delay them, and it was working. Why would Malfoy, someone that obviously hated Harry, and had done so since their first meeting, now be providing him with information? There was something not right about this supposedly chance meeting. "Why are you here?" he asked, looking at the uncharacteristically disheveled Draco.

"Because – because I want to make things right," Malfoy said in a meek voice, again very unlike his usual. "I mean . . . she's a pure blood. This sort of thing should only happen to mudbloods and half-bloods."

"Brilliant Malfoy," Harry fired. "Just tell us where Snape lives and get the hell away from me before I curse you."

"It's also because he's threatened my parents," Malfoy added, somewhat hysterically. "He said he would kill them before. He's not saying that now, but – but he might in the future. I – I – I don't think I can do the things he wants done." He looked revolted and Harry wasn't sure if it was over his own inability to perform the tasks requested of him, or because he was admitting it to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Shouldn't have got mixed up then, should you?" Ron asked.

"No, but I need your help to get out of this. You are the one that's got to finish him right?" Malfoy looked significantly at Harry. He didn't seem pleased with this arrangement. Harry realized that the expression he was wearing was contempt for the people he had to ask for help, rather than for his own shortcomings.

"What makes you think that?" Harry asked, crossing his arms.

"The prophecy. You forget who my father is Potter." Malfoy said, adding the latter part when he noticed the trio's shocked faces.

Harry had already swung his leg over his broom. The others, including Malfoy, did the same. "Whatever, let's just go. Where are we going exactly?"

"I'll show you where they are," Draco said and took off, Harry, Ron and Hermione following him.

As they flew farther and father Northwest Harry wondered it if was foolish to trust a Malfoy? It wasn't exactly as if he had the best track record. Could this possibly be revenge, leading them farther away from Ginny? The stupid idiot would have some explaining to do if that was the case. But as this was their best hope now, he decided to take a leap of faith and not question Draco.

They flew for over an hour, getting colder all the way. Finally, Malfoy started to descend, and the others followed. They could see a large chimney looming up in front of them. They landed on a dark, rubbish strewn bank, next to a river that was babbling languidly to Harry's left.

"It's up here," Malfoy said and started to walk away from the river.

A sudden slithering noise made them all jump and turn toward the embankment. Four voices called "lumos," and they saw a gigantic, twelve-foot long snake coming at them. It was Nagini.

Harry raised his wand to defend from the inevitable attack. Malfoy, who was standing beside Harry, panicked when he saw the snake (an odd reaction given he was a Slytherin and the symbol of his house was a serpent) and tried to hurry away. In his haste he tripped, slammed into Harry causing him to drop his wand.

"You moron," Harry hissed, backing away from the snake, which was now moving even faster. He was scanning the ground for his wand, which had gone out when he dropped it. Harry spotted it a few feet away but would never be able to reach it because the snake had lunged. He pushed Ron and Hermione out of the way as he saw Nagini rear up. She was right in line to strike him. If he didn't move she would certainly collide with him.

Harry took a step to the left and tripped over a rather large rock. He was in trouble now. The snake was only feet from away. Soon he was going to feel her fangs sink into him.

Milliseconds from being bitten Harry heard a fifth voice cry, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

He heard a whooshing sound, saw a flash of green light and next second the snake had fallen on him, dead. His first thought, as he pushed the lifeless coils off was that he at least didn't have to destroy this Horcrux.

As Harry watched, the snake shriveled up and then dissolved into dust.

Who had murdered Nagini? The spell had come from above them. Harry looked up and saw Wormtail.

"W – w – we're even then?" he asked, looking at Harry pleadingly, obviously referring to the life debt that he owed him.

"Yeah," Harry answered feeling grateful but repulsed at the same time, "but you're definitely dead. Voldemort's not going to be happy with you." After retrieving his wand, he, Ron, Hermione and Draco climbed up the embankment as he had been talking.

"D – d- don't t – t – tell him." Wormtail whimpered.

Harry thought this was rather rich coming from the man that was responsible for his parent's death, and had murdered Cedric Diggory. If there were anyone besides Snape that deserved Voldemort's wrath it was the pitiful man cowering before him. But Harry's main concern was Ginny. They were so close to her now. He needed to get her away from Voldemort and Snape.

"Yeah, whatever," he responded, waving away Wormtail's request.

Wormtail sighed in relief, transformed into his animagus form, which was the true representation of his character, and took off down the embankment.

"Let's go," Harry nudged Malfoy to get him walking again, as Hermione handed him back his wand.

Draco walked up the street heading towards the great stone chimney. They turned down a small grubby-looking street. Draco walked partway down and knocked one of the doors. Then he gave Harry one last look, full of fear, and ran as fast as he could.

"Where are you going?" Ron called after him.

"He's saving himself," Hermione answered, watching as Draco disappeared down the embankment, and seconds later could be seen flying off. "He doesn't want anyone to know that he was the one that helped us, or he'll surely be dead."

They waited a moment for the door to open. When it did they stood face-to-face with the greasy-haired, hook-nosed face of Severus Snape.

Harry's head almost exploded with the rage that erupted from within when he laid eyes on his former Professor. His anger had been building for months over what Snape had done to Dumbledore, but had reached combustion point when he had been told of the role the bastard had played in Ginny's abduction.

Forgetting completely about his wand, Harry charged at Snape, who, probably out of shock, didn't react quickly enough to prevent it. Harry pinned him against the door, ignoring Hermione's whimpers. All he knew was that he wanted to hurt Snape as much as possible. If the loathsome man ended up dead, well that was unavoidable, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it.

"Where's Ginny you bastard?" he asked, looking Snape right in the eyes. The former potions master's eyes were starting to bulge a little, but he was still alert, and the rage that Harry was feeling, was echoed in Snape's expression.

He didn't answer Harry's question.

"I should have killed you the night you murdered Dumbledore," Harry replied through clenched teeth. He tightened his grip a little more around Snape's neck.

Just as he did that though, his grip was suddenly relinquished and he was thrown back onto the floor. Their positions were now reversed and Snape was in control. He was hovering over Harry now.

"You don't have the skill or the nerve to do it Potter," he sneered, a little raspy from having his wind pipe compressed. Snape was now looming over Harry as he had done on the Hogwarts grounds in June, wearing a look of absolute disgust.

"Answer my question!" Harry demanded. He was seething with rage, staring at the man that had been responsible for so many horrible things, including the two worst things that had happened in the last four months.

"Manners, Potter," Snape smiled, looking down at Harry's angry face. With his wand pointed at Harry, and an expression of utmost glee on his face he said, "I'm glad to see that I was mistaken in thinking that you would have smartened up after Sirius Black's death."

All the greasy git was doing was adding fuel to the fire that was Harry's anger. The one person that he could have brought up that would have made Harry more enraged, apart from Dumbledore and Ginny, was Sirius. Snape had been responsible for that death too. He had goaded Sirius into taking foolish risks, like running off to the ministry.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT SIRIUS!' Harry screamed at Snape. 'YOU KILLED HIM TOO!"

"No Potter, you did, with your sloppy and arrogant beliefs that you are the only one that knows what's going on, and that you alone can save people." Snape was gazing down at Harry with contempt on his face. "That's exactly why you are so easy to manipulate. I've told you this before. Fools who wear their hearts on their sleeves stand no chance."

"Not against cowards like you that can only show backbone when murdering someone who's already weak," Harry fired back.

Harry saw Snape flinch at these words, and his eyes filled with fury.

"WHEN WILL YOU LEARN NOT TO CALL ME COWARD?" Snape screamed in fury, "CRUCIO," he bellowed, pointing his wand at Harry, who once again was experiencing the terrible plain that accompanied the torture curse.

He really would probably have let it go on until Harry suffered a fate like Neville's parents, but a sudden shout of "Impedimenta," from behind him, caused Snape to fall over backwards.

Hermione rushed over to Harry.

"Are you OK?" she asked in a weak voice, looking very pale.

Harry didn't answer her at once. He had to catch his breath. Finally he slowly nodded his head, "Wand?" he asked. Hermione retrieved it for him, and then helped him sit up.

Ron had his wand pointed at Snape, who was now in the position that Harry had just vacated, lying on his back on the floor, covered by Ron's wand. He had thankfully lost his when he fell over, or Harry was sure he would have done something horrible to Ron.

Harry exchanged places with Ron and looked down at the only person he hated more than Voldemort. "Answer my question now. Where's Ginny?" He bent down so he could press his wand into Snape's neck.

Snape again didn't answer the question. He was glaring contemptuously at Harry. "Not this time Potter. The Dark Lord isn't going to let you get away this time. You're going to learn what happens to fools that can't keep their emotions in check."

"Don't fuck with me," Harry said to him. "I have no qualms killing you."

"You don't have the balls," Snape grinned wickedly at him. "You didn't even have the nerve to keep to your resolution to stay way from Ginny Weasley, and look where that's landed you." He was now wearing a gleeful look on his face. "It was very easy for the Dark Lord to get to her. Thank you for your weakness, Potter." It seemed like Snape was done talking, but then as an afterthought he added, "fools who love area always easy prey," reiterating something he had already said.

"What do you know about love?" Harry asked, pressing the tip of his wand even harder into Snape's neck. "I bet no one's loved you in your entire life. Who could?"

"Don't talk about things you don't know!" Snape spat at Harry who saw, too late, that Snape had his wand again and had pointed it at him. Harry felt something slash the side of his head, and felt a trickle of blood run down his face.

"Sore spot is it?" he asked, goading the man lying before him. If he could provoke him enough, maybe Snape would lose control and let slip exactly how Harry could get to Ginny. "Couldn't find anyone to love poor Snivelly?"

Harry couldn't have explained why he had pulled that particular name out of his memory. Perhaps it was because it was one that he had heard his father use, or because he knew it would incense Snape, which it did. He was ready for whatever Snape would throw at him. Snape said nothing, but had his wand pointed at Harry, who thought and yelled 'protego," Snape's own spell rebounded back on him, but he was ready as well, and it ricocheted off the shield spell that he had used and hit Ron who was standing quite close by. He fell back against the wall.

Harry had backed away after casting his own shield charm, and the distance between him and Snape allowed the latter to regain his feet. He moved forward, wand stretched out in front of him, Harry stood his ground.

"I've had enough of you and your whole meddlesome family," he said, looking deranged again. "Your uselessness, your father's arrogance, and your mudblood mother's prying ways. I'm glad they're all dead, and you're soon to join them."

"Don't you dare talk about my parents," Harry fired back enraged, not able to taunt Snape after the jibe about his parents. Snape chose to ignore this and continued on.

"Precious Potter's still too delicate for the truth?' Snape was now the one doing the taunting. "What you don't want to hear about how your mother wormed her way into my life so she could get fodder for your father? You don't want to hear how she did her utmost to make sure that I was not happy?"

"Why would she even care?" Harry demanded to know. "In that memory I saw in the pensieve she couldn't care less about you."

"She did, enough to cause trouble," Snape growled. "Dear sweet Lily - cared for no one's happiness but her own." He sneered these words too.

Harry would never have thought he would hear the words dear and sweet come from the mouth of the man standing before him. More shocking than that even, was the fact that he had heard these words, said in exactly the same way, from Aunt Petunia the morning after they arrived at Grimmauld Place. This couldn't be coincidence.

A horribly disgusting thought occurred to Harry just then. Once before he had been revolted to think that maybe Aunt Petunia had been about to reveal a secret, torrid affair with Snape. It had seemed ludicrous then, but now . . .

"Yes Potter," Snape replied. There was a closed look on his face now. "I knew Petunia." He said this in a very cold voice, making Harry wonder something else. Had it perhaps been he who had something to do with the death of the Dursleys?

"You were the one then? You were the one that murdered them?' Harry's voice was trembling with rage once more. One other horrible thought occurred to him, which he voiced. "It was you that sent Voldemort after my Aunt Marge too, wasn't it? WASN'T IT?" he thundered, when Snape didn't answer.

"Those who can't close their minds present the Dark Lord with the weapons he needs to control them," Snape said, confirming Harry's thoughts. He was obviously referring to the fact that he had learned about Aunt Marge through their disastrous Occlumency lessons several years previous.

"You really are a bastard," Harry replied. He raised his wand. Now was the time to do it. He was going to kill the worthless waste of skin that had been responsible for the death of everyone that Harry was related to.

"And you really are a ignorant little prat," Snape replied, also raising his wand. "Not that I owe you any explanations Potter, but I had nothing to do with the death of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. But I don't deny it was a pleasure to give the Dark Lord the information he needed on Marjorie Dursley." He looked quite vindictive now.

"You're pathetic," Harry said calmly. He was sickened by the reaction of the Death Eater standing before him. "I can't believe you would hate me and my dad that much to get someone so distantly related to us –"

"Not everything is about you Potter," Snape replied. "Your failure to realize this is what's landed you in this situation."

"How so?"

Snape snorted. "As obtuse as ever I see."

Harry, feeling annoyed at this pointless banter saw sparks fly out of his wand, which he was still pointing at Snape's face. "You're just trying to waste time, and I've had enough. Tell me how I get to Ginny NOW!"

"No Potter. It's time for you to understand what your arrogance and stupidity really cost. You learned some of that with Black, but I want you to understand what it's like to lose the love of your life. Like I did."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry asked, advancing a few paces closer, in case he needed to provide more incentive for Snape to give him the information he wanted.

"Petunia," Snape said quietly.

"M – my aunt?" Harry spluttered, his most disgusting fears confirmed.

"Yes idiot boy, your aunt," Snape growled.

"Professor," Hermione aside, speaking up for the first time since entering the house, "how did you even know Harry's aunt?"

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know the sordid details.

"That, Miss Granger is really none of your concern," Snape replied coldly.

"Bewitched her did you?" Harry asked. It seemed the sort of thing that Snape was capable of doing. "To try and mess with my mom, or dad?"

"SILENCE!" Snape yelled, looking slightly mad now. His eyes were bulging again, not from strangulation, but anger. "You dare speak that rubbish to me!"

"Then spit it out," Harry demanded. He was using Snape's stall tactics as an opportunity to look for the entrance to the dungeon that he knew was attached to this house.

"I really don't think that it's any of your concern Potter," Snape replied, trying to backtrack now. Harry looked at him. There was an unusual expression on his face, one of regret?

"You loved her didn't you?" Hermione asked standing in the same spot she had been helping Ron back to his feet.

Snape spun to face her, causing Hermione to recoil.

"Love is for fools," he stated. Despite this statement, he was still wearing that expression of regret on his face. Harry was sure that Hermione was right. Now he really wanted answers. If it didn't take too long he wanted to know how Snape had known his aunt, and had come to feel this about her.

"Then I guess you're one of us," Harry stated. "Out with it. How did you come to get involved with my aunt? Now!"

Snape glared at Harry for probably the tenth time, but then opened his mouth and started talking.

"We met when your mother brought her to school and abandoned her. It was a really selfish thing to do. Maybe that's why your parents got on so well Potter, two peas from the same pod. We're very alike, she and I. We got on very well. I will not enlighten you with the details of our relationship Potter, for they are none of your concern. Suffice to say that your mother didn't like the fact that we were together, and did her utmost to break us up."

Harry seriously doubted that was the case, but decided he would let Snape get on with this story, it was disturbing to the nth degree, but somehow he needed to hear it.

"Your mother did a good job on Petunia though. By the time we graduated she had convinced her to end things. It was shortly thereafter that she started seeing Vernon," Snape grimaced at this.

Harry would have seen the point if it had been anyone else, but hardly thought that Uncle Vernon was a better choice than Snape, or vice versa.

"She wouldn't speak to me after that." Snape had a pained expression on his face. Harry was more certain than ever that Hermione had been right, and that Snape really had loved his aunt. "Not that I didn't try. She was easily influenced your aunt. Once she started seeing that fat lump she wanted nothing to do with me at all. She went so far as to say she detested magic, which I knew wasn't true. I was certain that she would change her mind one day."

Snape had lowered his wand and was walking around the room as he remembered this. He seemed agitated, and was getting more so with every step. Harry, for the second time in his life, felt a little sympathetic towards the pathetic man standing before him. It didn't cause him to cease being angry though.

"Just when I thought that she was going to give in and come back you and your stupid parents got in the way Potter," Snape stated, stopping to stare angrily at Harry before resuming his trek around the tiny sitting room. "We were meeting in Hogsmeade. I had business there that night."

Harry perked up a little more. He thought he knew what exactly that business was: the prophecy.

"It was a mission for the Dark Lord. I was to spy on Dumbledore. Lo and behold, I overheard the fraud Trelawney was a true seer after all. She was making a real prediction – too bad I didn't hear It all, but Petunia, who had been waiting for me, had come out of the room, it was her opening and closing the door to our room that alerted that imbecile Aberforth to our presence, but not before she overheard some of it too."

"What? Aunt Petunia heard the prophecy?" Harry asked, his head reeling. It seemed like more and more people knew about this thing. Why had Dumbledore, or aunt Petunia even, mentioned that she knew about it?

"Yes Potter, I have just told you that," Snape barked, and then continued. "When we were thrown out Petunia decided that she was done with me once and for all. But things weren't over yet. It was several moths later that I learned the Dark Lord picked you out Potter, to be the one that was most dangerous to him.

"You know what happened the night he turned up at your house. When you survived and he was destroyed I knew that there would be repercussions. Who knew about Petunia and what she had overheard? I knew that she would be in danger from the Death Eaters looking for information regarding our master. It was I, therefore, after speaking with Dumbledore, learned of Lily's sacrifice, and suggested he bring you to the Dursleys. There you would be safe, and in turn, she would be as well, because Dumledore would put the most advanced spells in place to guard you, and thus would protect her as well.

"It was too dangerous after that to convince her of the horrible mistake she made in Vernon. It would have been too much of a giveaway that she might have information on the prophecy if she and I could be linked again. So, despite the huge mistake I knew she was making, I chose to stay away. I let her go. That Potter, is real bravery."

"So this is the iron-clad reason Dumbledore has for trusting you?' Harry asked disbelieving. "The reason he believes you are on his – our side?"

Snape responded with a "tsh."

"Both sides are fools. I have chosen just to stand back and watch you all destroy yourselves."

"You're a Death Eater," Harry reminded him. "I don't remember hearing anything about you being forced to join Voldemort in the beginning." He flinched as his scar gave a particularly nasty throb.

"Things change Potter. I now no longer care. There's really nothing worth fighting for is there? We're all alone in the end." Snape sounded a little bitter. "After the Dark Lord murdered Petunia . . . " he looked away from them all, his head hung. "That solidified my position. I no longer care what happens in this war."

"Really Severus?' came the high-pitched and cold voice of Lord Voldemort.


	25. 25 Full Circle

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: FULL CIRCLE

Voldemort had just stepped through a door that was hidden in one of the bookcases lining the walls. Harry made a mental note of where that door was, but he was now more concerned with the fact that the Dark Lord was here.

Snape turned to face Voldemort, and for the first time he looked scared.

"Really Severus, you no longer wish to be a Death Eater? That can be arranged," Voldemort stated, his scarlet eyes flashing in fury. He didn't wait for Snape to say anything. "I do have to admit you have been rather useless of late. True, your information on Harry here –" Voldemort inclined his head towards Harry, a grin playing across is serpentine face, " – was somewhat useful in my current plan. But you have not at all been up to your usual standards. You even let Draco escape, and no doubt he is the reason that Harry's here so much earlier than I would have liked."

"Master I –" Snape started to say.

"Silence, Severus. You have made your wishes plain. I don't want to hear any of your groveling." Voldemort raised his wand so fast that none of them had even seen it. Before Snape could move even a fraction of a foot the Dark Lord said "Avada Kedavra," and that all to familiar jet of green light shot straight at Snape, who crumpled to the ground, a look of horror on his face.

Voldemort looked down at the lifeless form of Snape was now sprawled on the ground. "Pity," he said, shaking his head. Then, as though he had done nothing more than squash a fly, he turned his attention back to Harry.

"It is a pleasure to see you here in the flesh Harry. Come for the live show, have you? Quite a send off it's going to be, I'm sure. Did you enjoy that little game? I must say I rather wish it could have gone on a little longer. You really do have a temper on you, don't you? Breaking the mirror like that. It was the last vestige you had of your beloved godfather, was it not?"

"Where's Ginny?" Harry demanded ignoring the questions Voldemort was throwing out to try and upset him. He had no room for fear right now, terrified as he was about what Voldemort had done to her.

Surprisingly the Dark Lord smiled and waved his wand. Ginny appeared, as though summoned, in the space between Voldemort and Harry. She looked much as she had done in the mirror, of course, seeing her here in the flesh made the horror of it all the more real.

Keeping his eyes on Voldemort as the snake talked, Harry rushed over to Ginny, and caught her just before she fell. As she collapsed into his arms she said in a very meek voice, "sorry Harry . . . couldn't stop . . . "

"Don't worry," he said quietly to her, keeping focused on what Voldemort was doing. Now he had Ginny back they needed to get out of there. He knew the last battle with the Dark Lord would take place tonight, but would rather not chance his friends being around to feel the effects or suffer the consequences.

"How touching," Voldemort derided. He was wearing a scathing look. It was hardly surprising given the value that he placed on love. No, with this monster it was all about power. "I don't think that Ginevra can really put her faith in you though Harry. After all it is your fault that she's here in the first place, enjoying our little rendezvous."

There was that same sickening suggestive note in the Dark Lord's voice that had been there just before Harry smashed the mirror. Again he felt that same absolute hatred that he had felt then. Harry made to move toward the being that stood before him, wanting to attack. Voldemort smiled at this too, he seemed to be enjoying the fact that he could cause so much anger in Harry.

"He didn't do that," Ginny said in her weak voice, grabbing Harry's arm. "He's just trying to mess with you." Harry chanced a quick glance at her, and saw that she was pleading with him not to do anything rash. He wasn't sure he believed her, but they could deal with that later.

There was really only one thing that Harry wanted to do at this very moment, and that was to get Ron, Hermione and Ginny out of here. If he had thought they could manage it, Harry would have just told the others to run as fast as they could out of this house. Once there they could Disapparate. If they tried something so blatant though, Voldemort was sure to act, and someone would end up getting hurt.

"Well, well, Harry. Of all the ends that I've thought that would come to pass between us, this was never one of them," Voldemort stated, looking around the tiny room. Nothing had changed since Bellatrix and Narcissa had been here over a year ago. Everything was still dark, shabby, and preserved the appearance of being devoid of occupants for large portions of time.

"At the house of a Muggle! One of the greatest exhibitions of my power is going to be demonstrated in the house of a useless Muggle." Voldemort was flitting about the room, his black robes trailing behind him.

When his back was turned Harry seized the opportunity to motion to Ron and Hermione that they needed to leave. Voldemort spun around so fast that Harry was worried he had seen. He hadn't, or made no indication he had, because he was continuing to speak.

"You see Harry, I had big plans for you. You fouled them up by getting away from Privet Drive, and again by avoiding death by Mr. Weasley's wand. I must congratulate you on your excellent struggle against my Imperius Curse. It was not something I would have thought possible from one as unremarkable as you." He was speaking directly to Ron.

What an absurd comment! Voldemort was complimenting Ron. When Harry chanced a half-glance at his friend, Ron looked stunned.

"A lucky chance I have to say. Some of Harry's luck here seems to be rubbing off on you Mr. Weasley. But his luck is up therefore yours will be as well, I daresay." There was a mad glint in those freaky red eyes. Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all reacted instantly. Ron backed away, into the now closed door; Hermione stepped in front of him, and Harry and Ginny in front of them.

Voldemort lowered his wand, that frighteningly sinister grin once again plastered across his face.

"As I was saying Harry, this is not the most ideal setting for our final meeting, but I suppose it will have to do. Pity only your faithful friends are here for you. I would have liked to have a bigger audience. Perhaps Hogwarts would have been more suiting . . . consider it my first act as master of the school – to get rid of the last thorn in my side.

"No matter, no matter . . . there will be plenty of time for demonstration. You see Harry; I am now the greatest wizard in the world. I have achieved things that no other wizard –"

"I know you've tried, but you haven't succeeded," Harry spoke up. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew this would be the last time he would ever have to facedown Voldemort or because Ginny was still OK beside him, but Harry felt an odd sense of calmness as he stared at the monster that had once been a handsome boy.

The Dark Lord stopped in the middle of hisegotistical monologue and glanced at Harry. There was a look of surprise in those red eyes. After a few seconds they narrowed, as though sizing Harry up. He knew that Voldemort was wondering exactly what Harry was talking about, or if he was just trying to buy time. Harry, who was still trying to figure a way out of this dead-end situation, said nothing.

"What do you know of my greatness Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked finally in a quiet voice that was no more than a hiss. "You've got no extraordinary magical ability at all. Your knowledge does not even scratch the surface of mine."

"I know more than you think I do," Harry said. He needed to keep Voldemort talking. It was distracting him from the fact that Ron and Hermione were easing the door open, and planning to back out slowly.

"You know nothing," Voldemort smirked, clearly thinking that Harry was bluffing.

"Not true. I know a great deal more about you than most people," Harry replied, talking a little louder than was necessary, given the scraping of the lock as it was being turned. "I know that your mother bewitched your father into marrying her and then she was abandoned, and died leaving you at Muggle orphanage. I know that Dumbledore came to see you there and learned that you were a great bullying git even then. I know you know about the Gaunts, that you murdered Tom Riddle and his parents and framed your uncle for it. I know that you stole Hepzibah Smith's cup, and Slytherin's locket after framing her house-elf for that murder. I know about Marvolo Gaunts ring. I know you tried to get a job at Hogwarts after Dumbledore was made headmaster, and he refused you, and that you then turned around and cursed the position. I also know – " Harry stopped for a minute. He glanced at Ron and Hermione for half a second, and saw that they had the door open. Once he made his big pronouncement they were going to have to run for it, because Voldemort was surely going to act. They nodded to show they were ready. " – About your Horcruxes."

Harry had been watching Voldemort very closely as he rattled off all of the things that he knew. It was going to be unwelcome news for the Dark Lord that all of his secrets were out in the open. He didn't take kindly to that sort of thing, and was likely going to start spouting spells, something that Harry was shocked to realize he hadn't yet done.

"Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed. "The meddlesome old fool." He looked shocked at the information Harry had just enlightened him with, but quickly recovered. "So you know about my Horcruxes? Well, well, well . . . this does change things Harry. I'd rather have thought that I alone knew about them. Dumbledore did as well it seems, but couldn't have located and destroyed them all if he told you about those treasured objects of mine." He spoke calmly, but the pain that Harry had been feeling in his scar had intensified when he spoke of the Horcruxes, and throbbed even worse when Voldemort started talking about them.

"He didn't," Harry admitted, wondering why he was even engaging in conversation with a crazed murderer who was going to try and do him in yet again.

Voldemort's shocked expression turned to triumph once more. "And he left the task of finding and destroying them to you Harry?" He let out a high cold laugh. "I will sleep much sounder tonight. You have no chance, you that has only your mudblood mother's useless sacrifice – while I have the noble blood of Salazar Slytherin –"

"We did find them all though," Harry replied. "Wormtail finished off your snake for us just now." He remembered too late that he had promised not to tell the Dark Lord it had been Peter Pettigrew that had killed the snake. It really didn't matter though.

"You lie," Voldemort exclaimed cold fury in his eyes.

"Do I?" Harry asked. It was odd. He should have been scared out of his wits to be here, face to face with the Dark Lord, who was mere seconds away from trying to kill him again. Yet, Harry still felt rather calm, and had no reservations about taunting Voldemort.

"Nagini," Voldemort called, in Parseltongue. Harry, as was usually the case, took a moment to recognize the snake language. Voldemort called several more times.

"She's outside, shriveled up to nothing but a pile of dust," Harry explained calmly. He was rummaging around in his pocket. His hand closed around the ring.

"Number one," he said throwing it down on the floor. "Number two," the locket. Number three," the cup. "Number four," the wand. "The diary I don't have, but you knew about that one before didn't you? And of course you can thank Pettigrew for your snake." Harry finished.

Voldemort looked down at the ruined objects. Right now he was in shock, but that was already turning to rage, Harry felt the change occurring in his scar. He knew that it was now or never.

"Go," he shouted to Ron and Hermione, who flung the door open and dashed out. Ginny followed, pulling Harry by the hand. He backed out of the house as quick as he could, keeping his wand pointed at Voldemort, just in case.

Two loud cracks rent the night air, and Harry knew Ron and Hermione had got away safe. He backed into the shadows, out of the door's line of sight and thought about where he wanted to go, worrying that he wouldn't be able to focus enough before Voldemort acted.

Ginny said nothing as Harry grabbed her arm tightly. He was trying fix his mind on a place far away from here. There was only one place that came to mind clearly. Harry focused on it and twisted as a shriek filled the night air. It was impossible to distinguish but the flash of green light was not.

It was pitch dark in the patch of trees when they appeared. Harry opened his eyes. He felt fine, but had a horrible sinking sensation in his gut. He was obviously fine, but he hadn't been alone . . .

"Where are we?" Ginny asked, her knees trembling. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at her words. She was fine too. For a moment he had feared that they hadn't actually missed that curse after all. "I feel like I've been here before."

"You have," Harry said, pulling Ginny out of the trees, and supporting her as they walked over a bridge and into a tiny village that was settled down to sleep for the evening.

"Godric's Hollow?" Ginny asked, "Harry what are we doing here?"

"This is where it started for me, this is where I'm going to end it." Harry replied. He hadn't realized that until they were trying to get away from Voldemort on Spinner's End. It was the only way that he was going to be able to finish Voldemort. He didn't think that there was any other place on the planet where he would be able to do it.

Exactly what it was about this tiny village, Harry didn't know, but he was certain that for things to be resolved they had to come full circle.


	26. 26 The Fallen

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE FALLEN

Once over the bridge, the sense of urgency Harry had thought he left on Spinner's end came back in full measure. His scar continued to throb painfully. Voldemort was in a fury unlike any before, and he was trying to force himself into Harry's mind to ascertain their location. Harry pushed back as hard as ever. He would let Voldemort see their location, but not yet. They needed to make it to the house first.

Harry was holding very tightly to Ginny as they raced through the streets of Godric's Hollow. His reasoning in doing so was twofold. He needed reassurance that she was still with him, that he had indeed got her away from Voldemort; the other a more practical reason. She had just endured two days of torture, and was, therefore, still a little unsteady on her feet. It was thus all the more infuriating to Harry when his scar gave a nauseatingly painful throb causing him to stumble and fall, bringing Ginny down with him.

"Damn it," Harry cursed getting up quickly and helping Ginny to her feet. She was trying to hide her pain, but not doing a very good job. Feeling a stab of anger at Voldemort for causing her this pain, and then at himself for increasing it, Harry muttered a quick apology. Now was not the time for anger over the situation. They needed to move on and reach their final destination, before Voldemort found out where they had Disapparated to.

Down the high street they ran, past the Gingerbread-like houses, past the inn-where a light was on, past the church where Lily and James Potter were buried, past more houses, feeling the sense of mounting dread all the while.

Turning down a tree-lined street Harry's urgency was overshadowed when he felt another pang, not of guilt this time, but longing. He was mere seconds away from facing the house that he had lived in with his parents. Apart from Hogwarts, this was the only place that he could call home. He had been happy here, Harry was certain of that. Why, on the verge of a battle to which he did not know the outcome, he had chosen to come here of all places, was as yet unknown to Harry.

Then they were there, standing outside a house that would not have been distinguishable from all the others, but for the atrocities that lead to it's vacancy. Whereas the other houses showed signs of life by the lights that shone through their windows, the vestiges of summer flower gardens, and the seasonal Halloween decorations, the house that stood before them was dark and empty. Grass peeked over the top of the fence, the garden path cracked, with long weeds growing out of them. The darkened windows remained Harry horribly of the empty look of death, and over to the right, the unmistakable part of the house where Voldemort's curse had backfired. There was a sizeable hole in the outer wall, and the roof was sagging precariously.

Tearing his eyes away from the house, Harry looked at Ginny, who was staring at it with a mixture of sadness and horror.

"Why are we here Harry?" she panted again, wincing a little as she drew a shallow breath.

Rather than answering her, he pushed open the gate (a more difficult feat than normal owing to the overgrown weeds) and supported her to the house. "Alohomora," Harry said, pointing his wand at the lock on the front door, which gave a resounding click and swung inwards.

The minute they stepped over the threshold, Harry's thoughts were confirmed. This was home. He knew that. He had a sudden strong feeling that everything would be OK.

"Here, lie down," he said to Ginny, easing her onto the couch in the sitting room. "Once this is over, we'll get you to St. Mungo's or something."

"Once what – " Ginny started to ask, and then that look of horror was back on her face again. "Oh no," she replied, struggling to sit up. "You aren't really suggesting that I lie here while you're off somewhere fighting Voldemort do you?" She winced again as she changed positions.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing to do then? You'd be putting yourself into a huge amount of danger, trying to fight in this condition. Besides, you haven't even got your wand."

At this last point, Ginny grudgingly agreed, and slumped back on the couch a little sulkily.

A sudden noise outside made both of them jump.

"Stay here," Harry said unnecessarily, and ran to the front door. He eased it open with his wand, just enough to determine who was coming up the front path. It was Voldemort, surely.

Unless he had swallowed some Polyjuice potion, it was not Voldemort. It was Mr. Clark, the unnaturally cheery owner of the inn Harry and the others had stayed at in August.

"Mr. Potter, wha 're yeh doin' back here?" he asked, without the faintest sound of surprise. "I saw yeh runnin' down the street, an' I says the Thelma, there's tha' Potter. Wonder wha' he's doin' back here." He shot a quizzical glance at Harry waiting for an answer.

"It's . . . er . . . sort of a long story," Harry said hastily, glancing around at the dark street, ears strained for the sound of Apparition, or the swishing of a cloak. "Listen, I don't want to be rude, but right now's not the best –"

Mr. Clark, however, seemed not to need a concrete answer to his question, because he continued talking now.

"When yeh took off in August I tol' Thelma yeh'd be back. Thought yeh'd have stayed longer then to tell yeh the truth."

He looked around at the dilapidated house. Harry was surprised he could see. Wormtail was still alive which meant that the house should only be visible to those whom he had told. Had he told the Clark's the secret of the Potters location too?

"Blimey," gasped the elderly man, "I haven't looked proper at this place fer years. Whoever was here really did a number, eh?"

"Yeah," Harry responded through gritted teeth as he clapped a hand over his forehead. His scar had just given another of those painful throbs that had caused him to fall before.

Mr. Clark again did not notice this. Instead he was pushing open the gate and slowly making his way up the overgrown garden path.

"So where's tha' pretty redhead yeh brough' wi' yeh?" he asked with a kind smile.

"Inside," Harry replied. A sudden sense of foreboding overcame him. He needed to convince the man to leave, and leave now. "Now's not really a great time though. Perhaps we could –"

Harry never finished that sentence. At that precise moment there was a blinding flash of green light, and the innkeeper, so welcoming and helpful to Harry and his friends, fell unceremoniously to the ground, dead.

Dumbledore, it seemed, was not the only one that could make himself invisible without a cloak. Emerging from the darkness, at the gate to the house, was Lord Voldemort. His red eyes were flashing in malicious triumph.

"How very fitting Harry, to come back to the place where everything began. How well it will serve as an example. Once you are dead this house will be, not a testament to your power, but to mine. It will henceforth be symbolic of how I, the greatest sorcerer in the world, always prevail."

Harry wondered for the tiniest amount of time how Voldemort had discerned that they were here. But, of course, he realized, Voldemort had pushed just a little harder than Harry and had retrieved the information from his mind, the excruciating pain that had caused Harry to fall – that had to be when.

"Where is Ginevra? Is she not to join us to watch your defeat Harry?" Voldemort jeered.

Harry had been darting ceaselessly from the limp form of Mr. Clark, to the Dark Lord. An intense hatred, possibly the strongest ever in his life, was starting to well up. This was the Cedric situation all over again. This man had done nothing to Voldemort, and had been murdered simply because he was there.

"Stay the hell away from her," Harry snarled, feeling, if possible, even angrier with this foul thing's mention of Ginny.

Standing on the threshold of his parent's house like a sentinel, Harry raised his wand again. He had no intentions of letting Voldemort anywhere near Ginny again. Once was enough. If he wanted to get to her, he was going to have to kill Harry. It was as simple as that.

It was unnecessary though. This was not about Ginny; it was about he, Harry, and Voldemort. It was about finishing things once and for all.

Voldemort's face split into another of those bone-chilling grins.

"How touching Harry. How very like your father you are. Severus was right about that at least." He looked lazily at the house. "Sixteen years ago this evening I believe. How very familiar this all seems. You are standing exactly where your father stood, if memory serves. Yes, the same ending shall come twice."

With those worlds, Voldemort raised his wand rapidly and sent a second jet of green light at Harry, who dove off the threshold and landed in a patch of long grass. The door burst into flames. Moving the overlong blades aside, he caught sight of the Dark Lord and fired a Stunning spell, knowing full well that it would be parried.

"Harry, we are well beyond this point now. You should know that I am the superior wizard here. Give up this foolish waste of time, and I might just spare your precious Ginevra."

Harry let out a derisive laugh. A match in power he might not be, but he knew all too well that Voldemort would not keep his word. Mistaking the reason for Harry's laugh, Voldemort's red eyes narrowed.

"You still doubt my powers? Perhaps a demonstration?"

Voldemort raised his wand, made a jagged swishing motion, and the overgrown grass was engulfed in flame. Harry was forced back onto the garden path, spluttering and coughing at the sudden production of smoke.

Voldemort was still standing outside the fence, his scarlet eyes glinting horribly.

Harry stepped over the body of Mr. Clark, splay-legged, facedown on the sidewalk, closing the distance between himself and Voldemort. He ducked as the Dark Lord sent another stream of green light at him. He knew that he would have to respond in kind, and very soon. But now he was facing this battle to the death, he felt woefully overmatched. He had never been able to properly work an unforgivable curse after all. Now hardly seemed the right time to test out his skills when he was trying to murder someone, least of all the most skilled wizard alive.

Feeling he needed to do something, rather than avoiding curses as he worked up the nerve to use the killing curse himself, Harry shot a disarming spell at Voldemort. Well, it had worked once . . . This too was deflected as though it were no more than a fly.

"Pitiful defensive spells will not save you Harry." He reiterated his offer about sparing Ginny.

Harry let out another disbelieving laugh. "D'you really think that I would believe a word that you say? You can't even be honest with yourself." He shot another stunner at Voldemort, who again deflected it without effort. Harry didn't care. He had a plan, and he hoped that it would work.

"You no not of what you speak," Voldemort hissed, clearly getting rather aggravated with Harry's useless attempts at getting to him. "You are just wasting time, trying to prolong the end of your life."

"Am I?" Harry asked, sending an Impediment Jinx this time, which was sent reeling back towards him when Voldemort used a shield charm. "I'm not the one that's been spouting hypocritical sentiments for decades. Nor am I the one that needed to feel so special that I had to 'fashion myself a new name.'" Harry plucked the exact verbiage from his mind, the words the Horcrux Riddle had spoken down in the Chamber of Secrets.

He was speaking at random, hoping to get in a chance to throw his own final curse at Voldemort. He kept glancing at the inert form of Mr. Clark, as though his death would give Harry the strength to become a killer.

"You, Harry Potter, haven't the nerve or the skill befitting it," Voldemort stated. He still spoke as though he did not care what Harry said, but the pain in Harry's scar told him that the Dark Lord was, at the very least, irked at the way Harry phrased it.

"Nor the insecurity to need it, Riddle." Harry responded. His scar gave another sickening throb and he knew that he had angered Voldemort once more. He was running out of time to act, soon, very soon, he would not be able to avoid the spell. He needed to act before he couldn't.

Another round of killing curses were aimed at Harry, who was thankful for his own reflexes as he dodged every one of them, missing the last by mere fractions of an inch.

"You foolish boy, daring to use that name." Voldemort's voice, until now very cold and calm, increased a few decibels, as Harry's scar pulsed again. The Dark Lord was livid now.

"I do, yes." Harry responded, barely able to keep his eyes open through the pain and the smoke from the fire that was consuming the front yard.  

The smoke was becoming increasingly dense. Were it not for the near continuous stream of green coming from the direction of the gate, Harry would not have known where to aim his own spells. Feeling a fresh wave of anger as he trod of Mr. Clark's limp hand, hearing breaking bones, Harry pointed his wand and readied himself to use the curse. But as was common in the last few months, something distracted both wizards from their cat and mouse game.

The flames, fuelled by the unkempt lawn, had started licking the house. They reached the window to the room where Harry had left Ginny. It was the breaking of glass that turned their attention away from their battle.

Harry felt a sickening, gut-wrenching horror. Ginny! He had to get her. After everything they had been though, he was not going to let her die like this. He was not going to let her die at all.

Keeping his wand pointed in the direction where Voldemort was still firing off curses with alarming regularity, Harry hurried up the smoky path toward the door.

As he should have expected things weren't to be that easy.

One of the trees had caught fire. As Harry moved nearer the door a firey branch, nearly as thick as the tree trunk fell, blocking his path. He could and would have climbed it, but for the fire. He couldn't chance turning his wand away from Voldemort to put out the fire that stood between him and the house.

Seeing, or more likely sensing, Harry's panic, Voldemort laughed, and sent another barrage of curses at Harry.

As the twelfth flash of green light narrowly missed him, Harry saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Over the flames and smoke, he could see Ginny cautiously making her way out of the door. He groaned audibly. What was she playing at, coming out here? She might inadvertently get his with one of the curses, or Voldemort would target her directly. Harry made to communicate this to her, but next second, she was raising her arm and casting the very same spell she had used to wake Ron with back at the Burrow. She was dousing the fire with water.

Where had she got a wand?

As unlucky curse thirteen missed Harry's head by inches, Ginny put out the fire between herself and Harry, and made her way down to meet him. Before he could ask her what she was doing his attention was again wholly focused on the Dark Lord, who was reaching a level of anger as yet unattained.

"You can't avoid me forever, Harry Potter!" he shrieked.

The smoke had now cleared enough for Harry to see the gleaming white of Voldemort's snakelike face, and the blazing anger in those usually pitiless red eyes. Looking into those eyes caused another painful pang in Harry's scar, but suddenly, as though he could perform Legilimency, he realized something. Voldemort's wand was raised, and he was going to disarm Harry, nonverbally.

Ignoring, for present, the fact that he had once again seen into Voldemort's mind, Harry pushed Ginny behind him, raised his wand and prepared his own counter spell. He would try nonverbally to, but as those types of spells had never been his strong suit, he was ready to say the incantation as well.

As Voldemort's wand made the very familiar motion to send a disarming spell, Harry both thought and murmured 'protego.'

Miraculously, in his heightened and uncontrolled state of fury, Voldemort did not notice or seem to expect Harry's action. His wand flew out of his hand, and into the flames that were now taller than either Harry or Voldemort.

"What –" the Dark Lord's eyes were wide with shock, his nostril slits flared. The expression on his inhuman face was much the same as it had been that night in the graveyard when his wand and Harry's had connected.

Harry ceased his opportunity. He might not get another.

Thinking of every horrible thing that Voldemort had ever done, both to himself and others, Harry allowed that anger to fill him up and then uttered the words he had never wanted to say, but knew he must.

"Avada Kedavra."

Wandless, fear etched over the entirety of his face, Voldemort tried to extricate himself from the path of rushing death, but was not quick enough. Harry stood there, in a dimension where time seemed to be running at one tenth it's normal speed, and watched as those haunting red eyes widened in horror. A blood-curdling scream rent the still night air of Godric's Hollow. The jet of green light hit Voldemort square in the chest. Two bodies fell, and moved no more.


	27. 27 The Passage Of Time

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE PASSAGE OF TIME

Ginny checked her watch and rolled her eyes impatiently. There were many places that she could be tonight; sitting amongst a crowd of witches and wizards in the atrium at the Ministry of Magic was not one of them.

"It'll all be over soon," Hermione said from her right, as she patted Ginny's hand in a reassuring manner. "It's good that you came."

"I don't know if it is," Ginny replied. She really was regretting the decision to come at all. It wasn't as if the Ministry had the best track record when it came to Harry. But if they tried anything she was ready for them.

A sudden upsurge of noise made everyone including Ginny turn around. The Minister for Magic was making his way down the aisle between the rows of chairs. A broad, triumphant grin was playing across his face, distorting his lion-like features. This was not an expression that endeared him to Ginny, she glared at him as he passed her, and knew that he had seen her expression. His smile faltered for a minute before he affixed it firmly once more, and continued to the podium.

"I shouldn't have come here. I feel like hexing him," Ginny hissed to Ron and Hermione, who were sitting either side of her in the second row. "The nerve he has, taking the credit for something he had nothing to do with."

"That's not what tonight is about at all," Hermione replied in a calm voice that was doing nothing for Ginny's temper. "It's about celebrating. It's been a year since Voldemort's downfall. Surely even Harry would –"

"Harry's not here though, is he?" Ginny snapped and felt a pang as she said these words.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks over Ginny's head.

"Ginny, if your thinking of doing something tonight –" Ron started, but Ginny interrupted. "I'm not going to do anything that's going to make getting out of here any harder. I want out of this damned place as soon as possible."

"Ginny, don't talk like that," Mrs. Weasley scolded from the row behind.

A retort from Ginny was averted when Rufus Scrimgeour took to the podium, another wide smile in place as photographers from the Daily Prophet and other publications swarmed around, snapping photos.

The soft murmurs that could be heard across the atrium died away and all attention was on the man standing before the still broken fountain of magical brethren.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat as he brought his wand to it and muttered "sonorous," The excitement was palpable.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming on this joyous occasion. We are here on this evening to celebrate the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. As we all know it was one year ago on this evening that we were given back our world. It was in Godric's Hollow that the Dark Lord met his match in young Harry Potter, who regrettably cannot be with us this evening to join in the celebrations."

Scrimgeour, sounding more irritated than remorseful, cast a look at Ginny. It was quite unreadable. Could it be pity?

"Yeah, you just regret it because you can't use him again," Ginny snapped in a carrying whisper. Several people turned to look at her, definitely wearing pitying expressions.

"Sssh," Hermione said sympathetically.

Glaring at her, Ginny turned her attention back to Scrimgeour.

" . . . Not all good that evening. We lost several great men that night too. Let us all take a moment to remember them. If you would all please raise your wands for Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew."

"What?" Ginny hissed, absolutely refusing to raise her wand as the several hundred other people were doing.

"Snape, Malfoy and Wormtail great men?" Ginny mouthed to Ron and Hermione. "How could Scrimgeour overlook the parts they played in everything that happened a year ago?"

Snape had been responsible for Ginny 's abduction in the first place. It had been his uncontrolled insecurity over being called a coward that had made him turn on Harry when he had initially helped protect him. Snape, until the end, was a self-serving git.

Malfoy's role was questionable. True, in the end he had helped Harry out by leading him to Ginny, and had died for his efforts (Voldemort having caught up with him before going to Godric's Hollow). This didn't change the fact that he had aided Voldemort in getting the information he needed in the first place. He wasn't worthy of remembrance in Ginny's opinion.

But if there was anyone that absolutely should not have been included here it was Wormtail. Ginny knew that he had killed the snake, and saved Harry's life, but he owed Harry in the first place for his own life. Not to mention the fact that he deceived the entire ministry in allowing Sirius to go to prison for his faked death. Pettigrew was a weak little rat that cared only for himself, and died as a result of it, rightly so.

Recalling the account of how traitorous Peter Pettigrew had died caused Ginny to snort, earning her another glance from those around her, who looked like they were wondering if the events of the last year had unhinged her. She ignored them as she remembered learning of the rat's death.

It had been Lupin who brought news of Pettigrew's demise, ten days after Voldemort's fall.

The full moon had waned the night before, enabling Lupin to return to his human form. Having wanted to avoid people, he had sequestered himself in a forest away from his home. Lying among a large pile of leaves that morning, he looked up, and was surprised to see Wormtail standing over him, wand drawn.

As Lupin explained it, he was much quicker and disarmed the rat. He was livid over everything the traitor had done and would have killed him. However, fate intervened and a noise provided Wormtail the opportunity to transform. In a fury, Lupin would have given chase, but that was deemed unnecessary.

Unnoticed by both wizards, a great snake was hiding in another pile of leaves quite close by. The rat ran right into its path, and was swallowed in one. The animagus form that had aided him in his deceitful ways had become Peter Pettigrew's downfall.

Ginny, still smiling triumphantly, turned her attention back to Scrimgeour's speech, which seemed to be dragging on.

" . . . Without the valiant efforts of Mr. Potter and those closest to him we would not be . . . "

She lost the thread of his speech again, feeling a little angrier now. Valiant efforts? What did Scrimgeour know? He hadn't been there. He didn't suffer two days worth of torment by Voldemort as Harry had done, having to watch through that mirror while Voldemort tried to drive him crazy. Scrimgeour hadn't had to watch as yet another innocent man was murdered because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time; hadn't dodged more than a dozen killing curses, through fire . . . hadn't had to do something so against his nature.

_Blood . . . so much blood . . . _

"Don't think about that," Ginny told herself firmly. She shook her head to clear it and attempted once again to focus on Scrimgeour's dry, boring, and untruthful speech.

She looked at Ron and Hermione, who were both glaring at the Minister for Magic now. Sure this did not bode well for her mood, Ginny forced her attention back to the speech.

" . . . Working in conjunction with the ministry, Mr. Potter was able to bring about You-Know-Who's downfall. Sadly it was at a great cost to Mr. Potter -"

"LIES!"

Ginny was on her feet without realizing she had stood up. She ignored the faces that were all turned to her again. She focused all her attention on Scrimgeour.

"Harry wasn't working alongside you. He wanted nothing to do with the tactics you people were using to fight Voldemort. He never wanted this –" she waved her hand around the atrium, " – at all. He just wanted to be left alone, which you couldn't do. Even now you won't. You insist on spreading lies," she paused for a minute and then added. "We shouldn't have come here tonight. It might have given the idea that we condone what you have and are still doing to him."

Without waiting for anyone else to move, Ginny pushed out of the row, and walked quickly down the aisle. She was at the visitor's entrance when Fred and George caught up with her and climbed into the phone booth with her. The three of them left the ministry.

Once out on the shabby street, Fred spoke.

"Blimey Ginny you sure kept your cool. You shouldn't hold in your anger, it's unhealthy."

Ginny was still fuming at the ministry for trying to bolster themselves by using Harry, and at herself for agreeing to come to this stupid thing in the first place. She glared at Fred, causing him to recoil.

"Well, look on the brightside though. At least we'll be first at the party," George quipped.

All the anger drained out of her as she grimaced at the mere thought. The very last thing that she felt like doing was celebrating tonight. George seemed to realize his mistake.

"Oh, of course, you're not going. Sorry –"

The twins each put a comforting arm around their baby sister. The three siblings stood there in the growing darkness. Finally, in a moment of seriousness most uncharacteristic of him, Fred spoke again.

"You know Gin, not a day goes by I don't regret telling him I blamed him for your kidnap. And Sirius . . . I don't think he was responsible but –"

"I know," Ginny answered quietly. This was not the first time Fred had said this. She didn't much feel like telling her brother again that she was sure Harry would have realized Fred said it out of the emotional turmoil of the situation. She had told him before as well, that Harry knew Fred didn't really think he had caused Sirius's death. Now was not the time for repeating those sentiments.

"Did you want us to come with you?" George asked.

"No. This is something I can do on my own. Thanks George," she answered, again in a quiet voice.

Ginny closed her eyes and thought about her new destination. With a small sigh she twisted, and felt the unpleasant constricting sensation of Apparition.

It was twilight when Ginny opened her eyes and found herself in a group of trees. The ground here was covered in dried leaves, which crunched under her feet as she made her way to the bridge that would take her into Godric's Hollow.

Though it was unseasonably warm for the end of October, Ginny shivered as she looked over into the once so welcoming home of the Potters. Standing here, it was as though a year had not passed. It felt almost as though she and Harry had just arrived and were running . . . running from Voldemort.

_Blood . . . so much blood . . . _

_Harry had fallen when his scar gave a painful throb. He might have thought she didn't know, but she did. His hand and knee were bleeding as he helped her up. _

_They were at the house and heard a noise. Mr. Clark was there, Ginny saw him through the window . . . A flash of green light and he fell. Another flash of green light . . . the front door was on fire . . . Harry had disappeared. Where was he? Now there was fire consuming the yard. Where was Harry?_

Ginny felt that same sickening feeling as she had done that night. He couldn't be dead!

_Harry was back on the garden path, more blood on his face. He needed help._

_Ginny abandoned her post by the window, looking for something that would enable her to help him. What she really needed was a wand. _

_Then she saw it. A wand - lying under the sofa, just visible, where had it come from?_

_Not daring to think anymore about this wand's origin, she snatched it up as the fire caused the front window to shatter._

_Harry, surely having heard the window break, was trying to get to the house, but was barred by a burning tree that stood in his path. He couldn't put it out, for fear of exposing himself to Voldemort._

_There was nothing for it. _

"_Aguamenti," Ginny yelled, putting out the fire that had now made it's way into the entrance thanks to the flaming door. When that was out, she aimed the jet of water towards the fallen tree that was blocking Harry's way._

_Ginny ran to Harry, ready to help in any way that she could. But Harry shunted her behind him. In what seemed no longer than the blink of an eye he had shouted the killing curse, and Voldemort had crashed to the ground. But so had Harry._

"_NO!" Ginny screamed. She sank down to her knees and, with difficulty, turned Harry over. He was pale, so pale . . . His face was covered in blood, most of it oozing from his scar. It wasn't normal blood. The usually vivid scarlet was tinged with a sickly green . . . the same colour of the smoke that had come out of the Horcrux._

"_Harry . . . Harry, open your eyes," Ginny called through unacknowledged tears. "He's gone – Voldemort's gone. You did it. C'mon Harry . . . "_

_But he didn't stir. His face, beneath all the blood, was pale, pale as death . . . there was no life left in him . . . _

Snapping back to present Ginny felt the tears streaming down her chooks again. That night had been the worst of her life. But she wasn't here to think about what had happened a year ago.

Shaking her head to try and clear it again, Ginny walked down into the village.

Nothing had changed on the High Street in the last year. Yet, and perhaps she was projecting, the place seemed less friendly.

She turned at the inn and walked inside.

There were only two people sitting there. One was the elderly Thelma Clark. She looked older than ever, and far less chipper. Ginny was certain this change had more to do with the death of her husband than the passage of time. She seemed as welcoming as before however, smiling warmly at Ginny when she entered.

The other face, Ginny would have recognized anywhere. Though much progress had been made, it was still clear, even through his smile, that Harry was suffering for the actions of a year ago. He looked much older than his eighteen years. Yet, he was smiling, showing he had healed a little over time. Though, of course, the passage of time heals some, but not all, wounds. That was where she came in, Ginny guessed.

_Ginny had no idea how long she sat there on the ground, clutching Harry's limp form to her before people started swarming around. There were screams of horror when Voldemort's body was discovered, and screams of shock when they saw Ginny holding Harry, who looked as though he were dead too._

_The first clear memory she had was of her father's voice, "Ginny, let go. There's nothing you –"_

"_He's fine. He needs me," she had sobbed, clinging ever tighter to Harry._

"_Sweetie, we need to –"_

"_No, we don't need to do anything. He'll be fine. He just needs to be left alone," Ginny had said, bending low so her long hair shielded her and Harry's faces from the photographers that had appeared._

"_Ginny, let go. Harry's –"_

"_He's not!"_

" – _going to be fine. We need to get him to St. Mungo's," Arthur Weasley said gently. Ginny remembered hearing a hint of doubt in her father's words. He coaxed her into letting go of Harry, waited until Lupin and Moody had Disapparated with him, and then did the same with his daughter._

_The healers were able to tell them straightway that Harry was unconscious. He would wake in due course, they said. However, they were flummoxed as to why he was unconscious at all. The theory being bandied about was that it was the shock of committing the murder._

_Ginny thought differently._

_When they finally allowed her in to see Harry, after healing the wounds that she had sustained in that dungeon, the blood was gone from his face. He looked peaceful lying there. The only time he ever looked like that on those nights that they had spent together. She was glad to know he was getting the rest he needed._

_Ginny didn't immediately notice that Harry's most distinguishing feature was drastically changed. His scar, usually a vivid red, had faded to white, and was almost unnoticeable. _

_Harry woke three days after vanquishing the Dark Lord. Ginny, refusing to leave his side, was there when his eyes flickered open._

"_Hi," she said, managing a weak smile through her tears of relief. "Have a good sleep?" _

_She had been perched on the edge of his bed, looking down at Harry. He had stared at her in bewilderment for a time before a haunted expression filled his eyes and he turned away, thereafter refusing to look at her, or any of the others that came into the room._

_This behaviour lasted two days, until Ginny became frustrated and blew up at Harry._

"_Why are you being like this to all of us?" she demanded, pestering him until he replied, in a barely audible voice._

"_I killed him. I murdered someone. I'm no better than Voldemort. I know that's why the others have been avoiding me. I see your revolted expression when you look at me now."_

"_Your behaviour revolts me, not your actions Harry. You had no choice. It was you or him. If you hadn't killed Voldemort he would've done you in."_

_There was something akin to a hopeful expression on Harry's face as she said these words. Ginny could do naught but stare at him for a few minutes before she remembered how to work her tongue._

"_Are you saying you would have preferred to die?" Ginny asked in a meek voice. _

_Harry did not acknowledge her question for a few seconds. Then, as their eyes met, he slowly shook his head._

"_No, I . . . it just . . . hurts so much," Harry had told her, his voice thick with emotion. "To know I'm capable of that. I don't know how Voldemort could have done it so much."_

"_It's not the killing, it's the healing," Ginny explained, feeling both relieved that he was finally looking at her again, and a little heartbroken at his words._

"_What -"_

"_You feel remorse for what you've done. That's the only thing that heals the damage to your soul causing by murdering someone."_

"_Where did you –"_

"_Hermione," Ginny said, smiling at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "She said it was one of the only things they learned at Durmstrang."_

"_Oh . . . "_

"_It's going to take a long time, I know that. I just want you to know that you're not to go all noble and try to do this on your own. I might have to hex you." She pulled out the borrowed wand, and waved it half-heartedly in Harry's face._

_Harry attempted a smile, but couldn't quite manage it. Taking a closer look at the wand though, there was something like recognition on his face. Ginny could see that he had seen this wand before._

"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry asked, coming up to Ginny and startling her out of yet another trip down memory lane.

"Just thinking about how much better you are," Ginny stated, gratefully cuddling into Harry as he wrapped his arm around her. "I mean – since …after the Voldemort thing."

Harry laughed.

"Succinct that was. 'The Voldemort thing'. I like it."

"I'm glad."

"So are we ready to go?" Harry was still smiling down at her.

"Yeah. Did you want to stop by the house and put this back?" Ginny pulled out the borrowed wand she had been carrying around for a year.

"I'm not going back there," Harry stated firmly. Ginny knew not to pursue the topic. She understood all to well why Harry didn't want to go there, least of all tonight, when there might be others milling about.

"Besides," he added as they exited the pub, " it was my mum's. I think I'd like to keep it."

"That would be nice," Ginny stated, handing it to Harry. They stopped for a brief time, so he could contemplate the wand. Then he pocketed it, and they continued.

"How was Scrimgeour?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "As predicted. Honoring idiots and taking credit for other people's work. He was really mad you decided not to come."

"Figures," Harry stated as their steps causing the crunching noise of dry, fallen leaves to break the otherwise silent evening air.

"Did Dumbledore give you your answers?" Ginny questioned.

"He said the death of Voldemort broke the connection he and I shared. That off-colour blood was his power draining from me."

"D'you believe that?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I suppose . . . I can't speak Parseltongue anymore, can I?"

They walked along at their leisure, in silence for several minutes. They reveled in the great late autumn weather, the fabulous Halloween decorations adorning the quaint cottages, and in being here without having to worry about Dark Magic or Death Eaters.

"Oh wait," Harry stopped just outside the gate to the graveyard. He pulled out his wand and conjured some sad looking lilies.

"Been practicing?" Ginny asked, suppressing a smile.

"A bit," Harry muttered, a sheepish smile on his own face. "I just – I didn't bring anything last time so . . . I know they're not the best, but I figured . . . "

"They're from you. That's all that matters," Ginny said, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

Harry looked at her for a few moments without saying a word. Ginny thought she understood that he was trying to find the words to tell her that he was grateful she stuck by him through his rehabilitation. As if she would have it any other way!

"Come on, let's go." Ginny squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Gin, I –"

"I know, Harry."

"No, I love you."

"I love you too, Harry."

One hand clasped in Harry's, Ginny pushed open the gate so they could pay another visit to his parent's graves. This visit would be different. The shock of seeing them here was gone. Harry just wanted to visit his parents on the seventeenth anniversary of their death.

Some might have thought it an odd way to spend Halloween, visiting the graveyard of your boyfriend's dead parents, but Ginny didn't. She and Harry both understood better. It had been here in Godric's Hollow that he and his parents had been happy. It had been here that Harry had survived the killing curse twice. It was here, in the place where he had been most loved, that he was able to tap into that which was his greatest power.

Both Harry and Ginny understood that defeating Dark Magic didn't always require prodigious magical skill. Sometimes, Ginny thought to herself, watching Harry lay the flowers down in front of his parents graves, all you need is love.

The End


	28. 28 Harry's Worst Fear Alternate

It had been a while since Ginny and Harry had talked. She was working on her parents everyday to try and get them to return to Grimmauld Place. The feeling that something bad was going to happen, had been weighing on her more and more heavily.

Ginny was thinking about Harry as she set the table. He had told her they thought they had a way to destroy that last Horcrux. Then the real dangerous work would begin, finding and destroying the snake and Voldemort.

The kitchen full of the smells of delicious food enticed the inhabitants of the Burrow out of their various employments, and they congregated in the kitchen. Ginny sat down between her parents, and across from Lupin and Tonks, who were joining them this evening.

"Everything looks delicious Molly, as usual –" Lupin started but never finished his compliment.

A shrill noise filled the whole house. Lupin, Tonks and Mr. Weasley jumped to their feet.

"The stealth sensors," Mr. Weasley said looking at Lupin in a scared and worried way. They gave Ginny the merest half-glance before turning their attention to the door, wands drawn.

Several loud _cracks_ ripped through the night air. Mrs. Weasley screamed, and clutched Ginny to her. She didn't remove her vice-grip from her daughters arm when several patronuses shot into the air. The back-up guard from the Order had arrived.

"You three get back to headquarters," Lupin said rapidly to Ginny and her parents as he and Tonks rushed out the door. "We'll sort them out."

"Oh no," Molly cried as she concentrated her mind to Disapparate.

Arthur looked at his wife, and Ginny could see he knew she would not be able to side-along Apparate Ginny out of there.

"Molly, calm down and go," he said to her. He grabbed Ginny's arm instead and twisted. They remained within the Burrow's kitchen. A second attempt yielded no better results.

"Damn," Arthur said.

Molly clearly waiting to see her daughter safely away, gasped. "We'll go outside." He took his daughter's hand. "We'll only be out there for a few seconds. That should be plenty of time –"

With a small click the back door to the Burrow unlocked, and swung inwards. On the threshold stood a tall, pale, skeletally thin man with gleaming red eyes, and no nose. Voldemort was pleased.

Molly Weasley let out a small shriek at his appearance, but moved closer to her daughter. Arthur too, still holding onto Ginny from their failed attempts to Apparate, clutched his daughter tighter to him, and made to say something. With one wave of his wand, however, Voldemort forced Molly and Arthur back onto chairs at the so recently vacated dining room table; they could not move. He then turned those terrible red eyes on the youngest Weasley.

"Hello Ginevra, how long I have wanted to meet you! Ever since I learned you were the one that opened the Chamber for me."

"What do you want?" Ginny asked fiercely and more bravely than she felt. She was sure she knew what he wanted. There was only one reason that he would be here, Harry.

"My, my, you are a feisty one aren't you?" Voldemort asked, a sinister smile on his face. "What else would I want from you Ginevra, but for you to get Harry here for me."

"I will not," Ginny replied, her worst fears confirmed. She would not play his game, least of all when it involved Harry. He could do whatever he wanted to her but she was not going to give in.

"Oh but I think you will," Voldemort continued to smile. Ginny involuntarily shuddered.

"No," she said again. "I'm not going to subject Harry to you. You've done enough to him already."

"Enough? Oh Ginevra, I'm just getting started. No, no, no. Harry and I have some unfinished business to attend to. There are several more things that I need to do to Harry Potter before the end."

Ginny said nothing. She was trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. Nothing came to her. Despite the direness of the situation that she was in, she couldn't help but feel a sudden upsurge of affection and appreciation for Harry. How did he manage to get himself out of these situations all the time? If he were here, he'd know what to do.

"You're stubborn, like him. All the more fun we're going to have, you and I. Now stop playing the noble heroine and contact Harry," Voldemort demanded.

"No," Ginny said.

"No?" His eyes narrowed, the Dark Lord raised his wand in those disgustingly distorted spider-like fingers. "Well, Ginevra, some persuasion is in order it seems."

Ginny was sure the Cruciatus Curse was coming, and made ready to avoid it. But Voldemort turned his wand, not on her, but her father.

Unable to move, Arthur Weasley convulsed in his chair letting out shrieks of pain. Molly and Ginny watched as it went on and on.

Ginny stared at her father, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't do it. She couldn't sacrifice her dad for her boyfriend. There was only one thing to do.

"All right, stop," she cried. "I'll do it."

Slowly she pulled out her mirror and called Harry's name. He appeared almost at once, looking triumphant as he started to tell her they'd destroyed the Horcrux. He stopped dead when he saw her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"He's here," Ginny replied, knowing that no further explanation would be needed. She had done her part and would have left it at that until it really sank in that Harry was going to come here to the Burrow.

"Don't do it Harry. Just stay there. It's a tr –" she burst out rapidly, but wasn't able to finish because Voldemort snatched the mirror out of her hands. He looked down into it for a few seconds and then put it into his pocket.

"He'll be here any minute. Then the fun will really begin. Don't you think Ginevra?" Voldemort asked, grabbing her, and pulling her out of the house as his hostage.

"Why don't you just leave Harry alone?" Ginny asked trying to struggle free of his grasp. His skin was clammy cold, like a snake's.

"Oh no, I need you, Ginevra. You are going to help me destroy Harry Potter once and for all. And speaking of Harry, here he is . . . show time, Ginevra."

Voldemort pulled her outside and Ginny, still struggling to get free, saw Harry. She had never seen him look so angry and scared before.

Harry tried and failed to get Voldemort to release her. Ginny meanwhile was trying to convey to Harry to get out of there and let her handle this by herself. All too soon though Voldemort was gripping her tighter and dragging her with him as he disappeared.


End file.
